A Hunting We Will Go
by blucougar57
Summary: Three men, a remote cabin and a weekend away from civilisation. What could possibly go wrong...? Follow on story from Trapped and A Small World.
1. Seven Months Later

_A/N: _Once again, I find myself writing a trilogy. When I began "Trapped", I never envisaged where it would lead. Now, for anyone looking at this, if you haven't already read through "Trapped" and "A Small World", I strongly suggest you do so before starting this one. Otherwise, there is a fair bit that might not make sense. I won't lay out lengthy explanations here. All questions are answered in the two preceding stories.

_Dedication_: For Elliot, because he asked for it. Read into that what you will.

_Disclaimer_: The usual.

_Rating_: T, for now. It may change later, because I have some inkling of where the muse wants to take this.

_Summary_: Three men, a remote cabin, surrounded by nature. What could possibly go wrong...?

_

* * *

_

He fell forever. At least, it felt like he did. He supposed, later on, that the fall really only lasted a few seconds at the most, but it felt like forever.

_Everything seemed to slow to a crawl, like the slow motion footage you often saw in the movies. Somewhere, in the back of his mind, he though heard someone shouting, and it amazed him that he even had time to process that information. _

_He felt branches whipping against his face, arms, legs, chest; and at some point his mind registered pain as his head struck something hard and unyielding. It didn't knock him out, though he saw stars that blinded him momentarily._

_His body hit solid ground almost before he was aware of it, but there was no further pain. Instead, a cold numbness spread rapidly through his body, from the top of his head down to his very toes. He tried to breathe in, only to get a lungful of dirty water that sent him into a violent choking fit, and in the midst of that dirty water, he tasted coppery blood. _

_His fingers twitched slightly. That was all the movement he could manage, and even that was involuntary. _

_Distantly, he heard voices shouting again, but the words made no sense to him. It was all just a jumble, and he had no strength to even try to make sense of any of it. All he knew was that cold numbness that was quickly enveloping his entire body._

_Darkness closed in, and the last thought that passed through his mind as it overtook him completely was a single name._

_Olivia…

* * *

_

_Two weeks previous_

"That is not the look of a happy man."

Mike Logan looked around at the new voice that resonated immediately behind him, only to scowl and return his attention to the Scotch on the bar in front of him. It was the same glass he'd been served upong arrival at the bar, and it still sat untouched in front of him, waiting for him to take his first sip.

"Don't you have someone else to bother, Stabler?"

Special Victims Unit detective Elliot Stabler couldn't resist a smirk as he settled onto the barstool beside Mike.

"I will in half an hour, when Olivia, Munch and Fin arrive. Until then? You're it, Logan."

"Go to hell."

Elliot chuckled.

"Lighten up, Logan. Have a drink, why don't you?"

Mike let out a frustrated snort, and started to turn away. Elliot chuckled, and caught him by the shoulder.

"I'm kidding, Mike. C'mon, finish that off, and I'll buy you a Whiskey."

At that, Mike grimaced.

"No, thanks. I don't drink Whiskey."

"Since when?" Elliot retorted. When Mike didn't answer, Elliot shrugged. "Fine. I'll buy whatever you're drinking."

He started to signal for the barman, but Mike caught his wrist to stop him.

"I don't want another drink. I just want to be left alone. Seriously, Stabler. Do you mind?"

Elliot hesitated, all banter fading from his features as he finally sensed that something really was bothering Mike.

"Problems with the new captain?" he asked quietly. "Word is he's kind of a tight-ass. Uh... _Old school_, I think was the exact phrase I heard."

Mike scowled into his glass.

"That's not it. I'm okay with the new captain. Well, so far, anyway."

"Hm. You're lucky, then. We hear Goren's having all sorts of problems with him." He paused, and then added under his breath, "Hardly a surprise there, either, with a freakshow like that..."

Mike looked around sharply at Elliot.

"Why don't you take yourself right the hell out of this bar, before I take exception to your presence, and decide to knock all your damn teeth out?"

Elliot held his hands up defensively.

"Hey, take it easy, Mike. No harm meant. I was just offering a sympathetic ear. That's all."

"Sure. Next time, don't bother. Not if you're only going to bad-mouth Bobby. He doesn't deserve it."

Elliot blinked in astonishment at Mike's vehement defense of Bobby. Like everyone else in his squad, he knew that Mike and Bobby had gone through some fairly intense situations together in recent months... Hell, just about the entire NYPD knew how Mike and Bobby had been trapped together in a condemned building, and how they had barely survived. Even so, it still surprised Elliot that someone like Mike Logan was so willing to jump to the defense of someone like Bobby Goren. He couldn't imagine two men who were more different in their personalities than those two.

"Sorry," Elliot murmured, sensing it was time to back off, and apologise. He'd had been a difficult week himself, and had no wish to finish it off by getting into a fight with a fellow cop. "That was a dumb-ass thing to say, and I didn't mean it."

Mike sighed, then, and slumped back against the bar.

"Sorry. I didn't mean to snap, but I get fed up listening to people having a go at Bobby, when they've got no right. Who gives a damn if his methods are unorthodox? He gets the job done, and he's got one of the best solve rates in the NYPD."

"New captain making it hard on him, huh?" Elliot guessed. Mike nodded.

"Yeah. I don't know that it's that he doesn't like Bobby as much as he doesn't seem to know how to take him. And man, he likes to be hands-on with our cases." Mike sighed and shook his head. "It's just been a hard couple of months. And, what with having to break in a new partner..."

"Yeah, how's that going?" Elliot asked, grateful for an opportunity to shift subjects. Mike grunted in reply.

"I suppose she's okay... Pretty green, though."

"She's not Carolyn," Elliot said simply, and Mike grunted again, finally picking up his glass and taking a sip.

"Tell me about it."

Elliot glanced around at the sound of the door opening, to see his colleagues had just entered the bar.

"Listen, why don't you come and join us? A little bit of company wouldn't go astray. You can get drunk and bitch about your new captain _and_ your new partner all you like, and I promise it won't go any further."

A small smile touched Mike's lips.

"Thanks, but I'll pass. I'm just waiting for someone, and then we're going somewhere else."

"Someone else, as in someone of the female persuasion?" Elliot wondered with a grin. Mike chuckled at that.

"Hardly. Actually, I'm waiting for my brother."

Once again, Elliot was caught completely by surprise. He had to admit, he didn't know all that much about Mike Logan, but he was sure he'd never heard anything about him having siblings.

"Your brother?"

"Yeah, Stabler. My brother."

"Sorry, man. I didn't know you had a brother."

At that, Mike couldn't resist a smirk. It was, perhaps, one of the best kept secrets in the NYPD, that he and Bobby were brothers. Not even the new captain knew about it yet. Indeed, now that Carolyn Barek had moved on to a new assignment, Alex Eames was the only other person in the Major Case Squad who knew the truth.

Outside the squad, in addition to Carolyn, the only ones who knew were Mack Taylor, from CSU; their recently retired captain, Jimmy Deakins, and his wife Angie; and Horatio Caine, from the Miami Dade Crime Lab. Outside of that select group, no one else knew.

It wasn't that he and Bobby were deliberately trying to keep it secret. They just hadn't seen a need to advertise it to everyone in the NYPD. Of course, once word got out, Mike had no doubt it would spread very quickly, and a not-so-small part of his dreaded what would happen when their new captain found out.

From the moment he'd started as the new captain of Major Case, Ross's mantra had been 'keep me in the loop', and in this instance both he and Bobby had most certainly _not_ done that. They'd discussed it before Ross started, and had decided between themselves that it was their own business, and not something they should be compelled to disclose. Ross might not see it that way when he found out, but the bottom line was that they were not under any specific obligation to tell him.

"Something funny you want to share?" Elliot asked in bemusement, his voice breaking effectively into Mike's contemplation. Mike smiled and shook his head.

"No, it's fine. Sorry. Just... musing. You go, join your friends. My brother won't be long."

"Okay, if you say so. But if you change your mind, we're right over there. Your brother's welcome to join us too, if he wants."

To Elliot's puzzlement, Mike's smile widened.

"We'll pass. Thanks."

"Suit yourself."

Mike watched as Elliot headed off to join his fellow SVU colleagues. It wasn't that he didn't want to accept the invitation, but he knew damned well that the last thing Elliot and his buddies would want would be for Bobby to join them. Damned if he was going to put Bobby into a position like that, where he would be left feeling uncomfortable, and out of place.

He heard the door open again, and knew without looking that Bobby had arrived. He could tell from the way a very brief moment of silence fell over the bar, before conversations resumed. A grimaced flickered across his lips. Six months ago, he wouldn't have noticed such a thing, and wouldn't have cared if he had. But now, he did notice, and it seriously pissed him off.

There was movement beside him, and he finally looked to see Bobby had seated himself on the barstool that Elliot had vacated only a couple of minutes before.

"Hey," Mike murmured, and Bobby nodded in wordless greeting. Mike hesitated only a moment before asking the question that had been weighing on his mind all evening. "How's she doing?"

"She's more settled now," Bobby answered quietly, without hesitation. "She's still not happy about it all, but she's starting to accept the treatment. She, uh... She asked when you were coming to see her."

"I'll go see her on Saturday," Mike promised. "I would've gone with you tonight, but Ross wanted those damned reports before I left."

"It's okay," Bobby reassured him. "I told her you'd be up there to see her when you could. Um... Did you talk to Alex?"

"Yeah. She's not pissed at you, pal, so much as disappointed. You've gotta try talking to her more, Bobby."

Bobby sighed and rubbed a hand over his face.

"I know. I admit it, I'm an idiot. But I was just fed up with everything, and I wanted to get out of there before I blew up at someone. Particularly, Alex."

"Fine, I get that. But telling Ross he can fire you? What the hell were you thinking? You know, you almost didn't have a partner to come back to, because you damn near gave Alex a heart attack! Idiot."

"I didn't mean it, Mike."

"Maybe not. Lucky for you, Ross seemed to understand that. Last I heard, he was on the phone to Deakins, asking about the best way to deal with you. But be aware that he's still gonna chew you out when you go back in to work tomorrow."

"I'm not worried about Ross. I'm worried about Alex."

"Yeah, well, don't be. I said I'd talk to her, and I did. Just make sure you have coffee and pastries for her tomorrow morning. And when I say coffee, I mean the good stuff."

A weary smile flickered across Bobby's face.

"Thanks."

"No problem. Maybe you can do me a favour in the near future, and give my partner a few lessons in partnership protocol. I swear, you'd think she was twelve sometimes. Doesn't know a goddamn thing..."

Bobby raised an eyebrow in amusement.

"Don't tell me you're still sore about the fight with the FDNY? That was your own fault, Mikey."

"Bite me, Robert."

"You're the one who insisted she'd done everything she could."

"It's not that," Mike grumbled. "Well... not _just_ that. But... you know, Ross is her rabbi?"

"Mm, I'd heard."

"So how am I supposed to know that anything I say to her won't get back to him?"

"You want her to prove to you that you can trust her?" Bobby asked. "Maybe you need to show her that _she_ can trust _you_."

Mike looked away, scowling.

"You're not helping."

"Sorry, but this is something you've got to figure out for yourself."

Shaking his head, Mike slid off the stool.

"C'mon, let's get outta here. I need coffee."

"How many drinks have you had?"

"One. Why?"

Bobby smiled wryly.

"No reason. Lead the way."

Throwing Bobby a weary look, Mike led the way out of the bar.

* * *

"Something got your interest?" Olivia Benson asked with a wry smile as she noticed Elliot's attention elsewhere. He nodded towards the bar.

"Isn't that Bobby Goren, over there with Mike Logan?"

"It is," Fin confirmed. Elliot frowned and continued to watch as the two men talked at the bar for a couple of minutes before finally leaving together.

"Problem?" Olivia wondered.

"No," Elliot said, though the frown remained on his face. "But... Logan said he was waiting for his brother. Why the hell is he leaving with Goren?"

"Brother?" Munch echoed, his head coming up at Elliot's words. "Logan doesn't have a brother."

"According to him, he does," Elliot answered. "He told me he was waiting for his brother, but it was Goren that he... left... No way..."

Fin snorted derisively. "I hope you're not suggesting that Goren and Logan are brothers. Because if you are, then I'd be inclined to suggest you should be going home to sleep, and not sitting here drinking with us."

"Seriously, Elliot, they don't even look alike," Olivia pointed out in amusement. "Just forget about it. When Logan said he was meeting his brother, he probably just meant a brother cop."

Elliot conceded with reluctance, his eyes still fixed on the door through which Bobby and Mike had exited only a minute before.

"Maybe," he murmured, but the tone of his voice told them all that he didn't really believe it.

* * *

"By the way, I was talking to Stabler before you arrived," Mike remarked as he and Bobby walked up the street. "I might have mentioned that I was waiting for my brother."

Bobby raised an eyebrow, and smiled faintly.

"Elliot Stabler? From the Special Victims' Unit?"

"The one and only."

"And you told him that you were waiting for your brother."

"Uh huh."

"And then I turned up."

Mike couldn't help smirking.

"Right."

"So... basically, what you're saying is that the fact that we're brothers will probably be all around the NYPD within forty-eight hours."

"Try twenty-four," Mike corrected him. "Just be ready for the explosion from Ross."

Bobby nodded amicably.

"Fine. Just don't even think about leaving me to deal with that on my own. He doesn't like me as it is. I don't need him thinking I've been deliberately keeping secrets from him."

Mike laughed softly, and clapped Bobby reassuringly on the shoulder.

"Relax, Bobby. You know I'll back you up. And it's not that Ross doesn't like you... He just doesn't know what to do with you."

Bobby frowned.

"Is that supposed to make me feel better?"

Mike laughed again at his brother's predicament.

"What can I say? This is something you have to figure out for yourself."

"Hilarious, Mikey," Bobby grumbled. "C'mon, move your ass. That one drink is starting to affect your brain."

Mike smirked, but opted for silence as he followed off down the street.

* * *

"I'm telling you, it's a good idea!"

It was Mike's turn to frown as, a half hour later, the two brothers sat in an all-night coffee shop talking quietly.

"Bobby, I told you already. I don't like camping. All that nature... If you want to get away for a while, what's wrong with booking a hotel room in Vegas, or maybe Reno?"

"It's not the camping you don't like," Bobby retorted. "It's the memories from that case, and I told you that I'd show you what poison ivy looks like. Besides, it won't be genuine camping out, like in a tent. Captain Deakins offered us the use of his cabin up in the Catskills. It's fitted out with all the luxuries, including cable... if you really don't want to go outside."

"What about LA? We could go to Disneyland..."

"Mike..."

"I just don't like camping!" Mike protested. "I don't care if it's in a cabin or not. Being that far away from any form of civilisation is not a good thing. Didn't you ever see _Deliverance_? Do you want to end up like Burt Reynolds?"

"Burt Reynolds?" Bobby echoed incredulously.

"Or any of them!" Mike argued, and Bobby couldn't resist a smirk.

"You're seriously worried we might run into homicidal backwoods mountain men?"

"Anything's possible," Mike grumbled. A weary sigh escaped Bobby.

"Mike, that whole movie was a metaphor. There was no one after them. After that initial incident, they let their paranoia take over, to the point where they killed a completely innocent man. That's what _Deliverance_ is really about. The consequences of letting paranoia and irrationality take over, and failing to think calmly and logically."

"Whatever," Mike muttered. "It's still a lousy idea."

"We agreed," Bobby reminded him. "This was my choice. It'll be your choice next time, and if you really want to go to Las Vegas, or Reno... or even Disneyland, then that's where we'll go. But this time, it's Deakins cabin in the Catskills."

"You're really not going to change your mind, are you?" Mike asked sourly, and Bobby couldn't resist a grin.

"Sorry, Mike, but no."

"You're not sorry," Mike retorted as he down the last of his coffee. "You just want to see me suffer. Go on, admit it."

"No, I want to show you that it can actually be fun to get back to nature," Bobby corrected him lightly.

"Fine," Mike groused. "But _you_ can tell the captain we want the time off."

Bobby grimaced at that.

"Thanks a lot, Mike."

Mike grinned at him unapologetically.

"You're welcome, baby brother."

* * *

_tbc..._


	2. Letting The Cat Out Of The Bag

_A week later_

Elliot Stabler paused in the door of the bar, blinking at the sudden feeling of dejavu that he was experiencing. Here it was, another Friday night, the same bar, and there was Mike Logan at the bar once more, like some bizarre, hulking fixture.

Shaking off his surprise, and letting curiosity take over – he was still in the dark over Mike's strange remarks the previous week about his brother – Elliot made his way over to join Mike at the bar.

"You know, if I hadn't actually seen you leave this place last week, I'd think you were becoming a permanent fixture. And damn, Logan, you're even wearing the same suit!"

Mike didn't bother looking up from his drink, although Elliot couldn't miss the smile that quirked his lips.

"If I didn't know any better, Stabler, I'd think you were stalking me. And for the record, I've got two of these suits."

Elliot smirked.

"Why am I not surprised?"

"Screw you, Stabler."

Elliot laughed, then. It was blatantly obvious that Mike was in a markedly better mood tonight. He wondered whether he was in a good enough mood to risk raising the question that had been hanging in his mind all week.

"Is there something on your mind, Stabler?" Mike asked suddenly, startling Elliot back to reality. "Or do you just like staring at other men? 'Cause if you do, you're in the wrong bar."

"I could deck you for that," Elliot remarked amiably as he signalled the barman and ordered a drink for himself. Mike snorted into his drink.

"Except, you're perfectly comfortable with your sexuality, and don't feel the least bit threatened by my insinuation. You want to hurry up and say what you want to say? I'm busy."

"Oh, yeah," Elliot agreed, his voice heavily laced with sarcasm. "And you look it, too. Here to meet your _brother_ again, are you?"

He didn't intend for the question to sound accusatory, but that was how it came out regardless. Elliot braced himself in anticipation of some form of rebuke and he was surprised when, instead of snapping, Mike chuckled and swung around on the barstool to face him properly.

"Has that been bugging you all week, Stabler?"

The amusement in Mike's features only served to raise Elliot's levels of irritation, and he found himself biting back in growing aggravation.

"It hasn't been _bugging_ me, Logan. I was just curious. Last I checked, that wasn't a felony."

Mike's grin widened.

"Let me guess. You want to know why, when I told you I was meeting my brother, I then left with Bobby Goren. Right?"

All he got in answer was an annoyed grunt, and he laughed softly.

"What do you think it mean, Stabler?"

Elliot looked sharply at Mike. The other detective was enjoying stringing him along _way_ too much. Glowering, he picked up the drink that had been set in front of him, and stepped away from the bar.

"Why don't you go to hell, Logan? I don't give a damn about your petty little secrets. I was just trying to friendly."

Again, Mike laughed, not the least bit thrown by Elliot's deteriorating mood.

"I'm sorry. Come back. Look, you want to know the truth? When I said I was waiting for my brother, I _was_ talking about Bobby."

Elliot nodded, returning to the bar.

"So Olivia was right. You meant you were waiting for a brother cop."

Mike raised an eyebrow slightly and, if anything, the amused look on his face increased.

"No… I meant I was waiting for my brother."

Elliot froze, the glass halfway to his lips. After a moment, he lowered back to the counter.

"You… and Bobby Goren? No fucking way…"

It was said a little louder than necessary, and nearby a few conversations halted for a moment and several pairs of eyes turned towards them. Mike threw a threatening glare in their general direction before returning his attention to Elliot.

"Thanks a lot, Stabler. This time tomorrow, it'll be all around the NYPD that we're lovers."

Elliot couldn't quite contain a smirk. That was one rumour that would have interesting repercussions.

"Sorry."

"Yeah. Sure you are. Asshole."

There was no acrimony in his words, and Elliot chuckled softly as they came back to the original topic of conversation.

"So… You're seriously telling me that you and Goren are brothers?"

"That's right."

Elliot sat there in silence, trying to decide what he could say that wouldn't result in a fist to his face. Finally, Mike gave in and decided to cut his fellow detective a break.

"Look, we found out after that thing that happened about ten months ago, when Bobby and I were trapped in that building together. One of Mack Taylor's little protégés ran a DNA comparison on our blood work by mistake when they were analysing the evidence from the car that we were transported in. Taylor gave the results to Deakins, and he decided we had a right to know. So he told us."

"So…" Elliot mused. "Mother? Father?"

"My father, and Bobby's mother."

Elliot grunted.

"That's freaky, Logan. You're blood-related to that head-case…"

A moment later, he grunted in pain as Mike's hand slid across his shoulders, and locked onto the back of his neck in a vice-like grip. When he spoke, it was in a deceptively friendly tone that belied the threatening strength in Mike's grip on his neck.

"Bobby's not a head-case, Elliot. He's just really, really smart. He's also my little brother, so don't ever disrespect him in front of me again, okay?"

Elliot gasped as Mike finally released his grip on him, and went back to nursing his drink as though nothing had happened.

"Damn, Logan," he muttered, gingerly rubbing the back of his neck. "A bit over-protective, aren't you?"

Mike shrugged.

"Maybe, but like I said. He's my little brother, and he's never had anyone to stand up for him before. Let's just say I'm doing my little bit to make up for lost time."

"Tell me something. Does your new captain know?"

"Not yet," Mike replied placidly.

"He's gonna hit the roof when he does find out," Elliot pointed out, and Mike smiled faintly. He and Bobby practically lived in anticipation of _that_ explosion.

"Probably. But we haven't done anything wrong. There's no police against family members working in the same squad."

Elliot grunted again as he sipped at his beer.

"Your captain might not see it that way, my friend." He paused, and then asked wryly, "So, what, you two are best buddies now that you're brothers?"

"No," a voice spoke behind them, and Stabler jumped a little in surprise, though Mike didn't so much as flinch. "We were friends before we found out. Knowing we're brothers just…"

"Cemented things," Mike suggested when Bobby hesitated. Bobby smiled and nodded, taking up the seat on the other side of Mike.

"Right."

Elliot paused, eyeing the two with interest, his keen senses taking in small but significant details that anyone else might have overlooked. He could see the regard the two men had for each other. He could see it in the simple way that Mike signalled the bartender and ordered a drink for Bobby without having to ask what he wanted. He saw it in the way that Bobby reached across and snagged a fresh bowl of peanuts when Mike ate the last of what was in front of him. And he saw it in the way that Mike slung an arm affectionately around Bobby's shoulders as he said something to him in a low, conspiratorial voice.

Most of all, he saw it in their faces, in their eyes, and in the way they smiled at each other with what could only be described as brotherly love.

For just a brief moment, Elliot felt a flash of jealousy that he couldn't begin to explain, and then it was gone. Feeling out of place in their company all of a sudden, Elliot slipped off his barstool and picked up his beer.

"I'll see you round," he said as casually as he could, and ambled off before either Bobby or Mike had a chance to say a word.

"You think he'll go straight to his buddies and blab?" Mike wondered as he watched Elliot manoeuvre his way through the growing crowd of off-duty cops, to an empty table on the far side of the bar.

"Why should he?" Bobby asked. "It doesn't affect him. And like you said, there's no policy against us working in the same squad. He's got nothing to gain from spreading the news."

Mike conceded with some reluctance.

"Mm. Maybe."

"I'm taking Carolyn out tomorrow night," Bobby announced, abruptly changing the subject. Mike eyed him with a grin.

"You finally got off your ass and called her, huh?"

"I know," Bobby sighed. "I've been procrastinating. But with everything that's happened over the last few months… I just didn't feel like being around anyone much, and she doesn't deserve to have me take out my frustrations on her."

"Fair enough," Mike agreed. "So, where are you going?"

"A friend of mine owns a little Italian Restaurant. The food is great, and it has a nice big dance floor."

Mike nodded approvingly.

"She'll like that."

"Mm. I suggested a little place we could go to afterwards, for coffee, and maybe some dessert, but she said she's taken care of that. She said we'll be having dessert back at her place, where it's more private. I'm not entirely sure what she has in mind, but she mentioned something about chocolate body paint and edible lingerie…"

Mike nearly choked on the peanuts he'd just put in his mouth, and it took a solid thump on the back from Bobby to set him right.

"You okay?" Bobby asked and, in his eye-watering state, Mike missed the mischievous gleam in his brother's eyes.

"Yeah… But damn, Bobby, I don't need details like that! She used to be my partner, remember?"

Bobby smirked in satisfaction at his brother's discomfort.

"So, maybe next time you'll remember that I don't need a detailed description of Alex's lingerie."

Mike chuckled, then, recalling _that_ particular conversation with amusement. Poor Bobby hadn't been able to look straight at his partner all morning. Of course, Mike had suffered for it, because when Alex had eventually learned why Bobby wouldn't maintain eye contact with her, she'd taken it out on him by way of a solid fist to his upper left arm. It had been numb for the better part of the afternoon.

He'd apologised profusely to her, naturally, and had reaped the benefits that very same evening. That time, though, all the details had stayed exclusively between himself and Alex.

"Okay," he conceded. "Point taken. Seriously, though, Bobby, treat her nice. She deserves it."

Bobby nodded in sincere agreement.

"I know she does. And you know I will."

"Yeah, I know, but it doesn't hurt to say it, either."

Bobby nodded.

"No," he agreed. "It doesn't. So… are you ready for next weekend?"

At that unwelcome reminder, Mike snorted loudly.

"Oh, sure."

"Still not looking forward to it?" Bobby queried in amusement, and his question drew a dirty look from Mike.

"Hey, what's not to look forward to? Bugs… poison ivy… wild animals… poison ivy… lack of civilisation… and did I mention poison ivy?"

Bobby had to laugh. If he didn't laugh, he probably would have punched him.

"Mike, I talked to Deakins yesterday. He assured me that poison ivy doesn't grow in that particular area. You'll be perfectly safe, I promise."

"I'll hold you to that, Bobby. And just so you know, if you're wrong and I so much as see the damned stuff, I'm gonna roll you in it."

Bobby sighed, then. He was seriously looking forward to getting away for the weekend, just him and Mike, and it deflated his enthusiasm a little that Mike didn't want to go.

"Look, it's not going to be anywhere near as bad as you think it will be. You're going to enjoy it, really. The cabin's near a lake. It has it's own private pier, and…"

He trailed off as Mike slung an arm around his shoulders, and gave him a brief but reassuring hug.

"Relax, Bobby. I'm not _that_ down on the idea. I'm sure we're going to have a great time. And, it'll just be the two of us, which is what's important. Considering the last time we spent significant time alone together, we were locked up in a fucking cage together…"

Bobby smiled in relief at Mike's apparent acceptance.

"Okay. I, uh… I'll be back in a minute."

Mike watched as Bobby made his way through the crowd, heading towards the bathroom. He waited carefully until Bobby was out of sight, and well out of hearing range, before turning back to his drink and muttering under his breath, "All I can say is thank God it's only for two days."

* * *

_Monday morning_

When Mike arrived in the Major Case squad room on Monday morning, he expected to be confronted with a very smug Bobby Goren and, if that were the case, he had a story or two of his own to brag about. He knew Bobby had had a good time with Carolyn on Saturday night, at least while they'd been out. Bobby's friend Lewis had been at that same restaurant with a date of his own, and had seen them dancing together. He had reported back to Alex who had, in turn, told him. The word was Bobby and Carolyn had given a whole new meaning to dirty dancing, and had come just one step shy of getting themselves thrown out of the restaurant… regardless of the fact that Bobby was friends with the owner.

He grinned to himself at the thought of not only Bobby, but Carolyn as well getting so carried away in such a public place. The other point, though, was that they really did seem to like each other, and Mike sincerely hoped it worked out for them. There was a part of him that suspected they would probably drive each other up the wall profiling each other, but he was hardly one to judge on who made a good pairing.

He reached his desk, and came back to reality to realise that, contrary to the usual bustle and noise that filled the bullpen on a Monday morning, he was surrounded by almost complete silence. Looking around slowly, he realised that although the detectives present appeared to be focused on their individual paperwork, most were watching him out of the corner of their eye. Even Wheeler was glancing surreptitiously at him with a look on her face that he could only describe as being incredulous.

It was then, as his gaze went to Bobby and Alex's conjoined desks, that he realised Bobby wasn't there. Throwing Wheeler a slight frown that immediately caused her to drop her gaze, he sauntered over to Alex.

"Somebody die?" he asked, and promptly kicked himself at the realisation that maybe, just maybe, somebody had. Alex, however, allayed that fear when she smirked up at him.

"You're busted, Mike. Captain Ross knows. In fact, I think most of the NYPD knows. And he is not happy."

Mike felt his stomach knot up at her words, and he glanced over at Ross's office. The shades were drawn, making it impossible to see what was going on inside.

"Bobby…?"

"Ross hauled his ass in there as soon as Bobby arrived, nearly half an hour ago. He only stopped yelling about ten minutes ago." She paused, the smirk fading quickly to make way for a worried frown. "I don't know what's worse. The yelling, or the silence."

Grimacing, Mike turned to head for Ross's office, without even bothering to remove his jacket first.

"Mike, I wouldn't," Wheeler warned him quickly. "Captain Ross hates to be interrupted."

Mike flashed her a dark look.

"That's my brother in there, Wheeler. I promised him I'd back him up, and that's what I'm going to do."

And, squaring his shoulder resolutely, Mike marched over to the office, rapped once on the door and went inside without waiting for a response.

"Ballsy," someone commented, once the door swung shut after him, and Alex smiled faintly at the admiration in the responsible detective's voice.

"What do you expect?" she heard someone else say. "Logan's old school. He knows the meaning of loyalty. The guy's a good cop. If you ask me, Goren's the lucky one, having a guy like him for a brother."

Alex grinned and, feeling more relaxed than she had since Bobby had first disappeared into Ross's office, returned her attention to the work at hand.

* * *

Mike wasn't entirely sure upon entering Ross's office whether the look on the captain's face got worse or got better. All he knew was that he hadn't seen an expression like that since fronting up to Van Buren after punching out the councilman. He glanced at Bobby, and though his brother looked a little on the pale side, the relief in his expression at Mike's arrival couldn't be mistaken.

"Sorry I'm late," Mike stated calmly, more calmly than he was feeling right then. "Traffic was a bitch this morning."

With that, he strolled casually around and sat himself down in the chair beside Bobby, stretching out his long legs, folding his arms across his chest and regarding Ross with his best 'do your worst, I don't give a fuck' expression. Ross stared back at him piercingly for several seconds before speaking in a snarky tone that was disturbingly reminiscent of Alex.

"I just have one question for you, Logan. Were you ever going to bother letting me in on this?"

Mike looked over at Bobby, and then back to Ross.

"Honestly, Captain? No."

Ross let his breath out in a sharp hiss.

"Why the hell not?"

"Frankly, sir, because we didn't believe it was an issue. There's no policy against two brothers working in the same squad, and we were working here together long before we found out that we were brothers. So we figured, why should it make any difference now? And it hasn't."

Ross regarded Mike incredulously.

"Did you two rehearse this? That's just what Goren said, almost word for word."

Mike grinned.

"We're just on the same wavelength, Captain."

A frustrated sigh escaped Ross, and he tossed his pen onto his desk in annoyance.

"When I started here as captain, I asked for just one thing. Keep me in the loop. Did you really mistrust me that much?"

Bobby shifted uncomfortably.

"With all due respect, Captain…"

"No, Goren," Ross interrupted sharply. "There _was_ no respect involved here."

Bobby grimaced. Little though he liked it, he had to concede there.

"Captain, we didn't deliberately keep you in the dark," he said, choosing his wording more carefully. "We've never tried to keep it secret. It's just that we never thought it was necessary to advertise the fact."

"Up until now, hardly anyone knew," Mike pointed out. "Not just you, Captain."

Ross nodded. He conceded to that point. The rest of the squad was just as stunned as he had been.

"Tell me straight," he said carefully, in a deliberately low voice. "Before now, who knew?"

Mike and Bobby glanced warily at each other, but Bobby answered honestly.

"Eames, Barek and Captain Deakins and his wife… and Mack Taylor and Stella Bonasera from CSU. Sir, we really didn't try to keep it secret from you. It really just didn't occur to us that it was something you needed to know."

Ross sighed again. As much as he wanted to stay mad at the both of them, he could see the sincerity in their expressions, and hear it in their words. They really hadn't meant to hide it from him. It was just a fact that they hadn't bothered to publicly advertise.

"You two clowns are going to give me an ulcer," he grumbled, and had a hard time not smiling in response to the grins that lit up the faces of his detectives. "And for the record, you've done a hell of a job keeping this under the radar for, what is it… ten months now?"

"Something like that," Bobby murmured. He could feel the knot of tension in his gut slowly starting to ease off finally as he realised Ross was finally beginning to accept their argument.

"I'm going to have to add this to your files," he muttered, scrawling a note for himself on the pad in front of him. "Does each of you want me to list the other as your official next of kin contact?"

Again, Mike and Bobby exchanged glances. Up until now, the next of kin contact for Mike had been Don Cragen, and it was listed as Jimmy Deakins for Bobby. A faint smile was exchanged between the two as it occurred to them that, for the first time in either of their lives, they had an actual blood relation that they could each legitimately put down as their next of kin.

"Yeah," Mike answered quietly. "We'd like that, Captain. Thankyou."

Ross glanced up, intrigued by Mike's tone. From the moment he'd arrived in Major Case, he had to admit he'd expected trouble. He'd heard plenty about both Bobby and Mike from other colleagues, much of it less than agreeable, and someone in particular had warned him that it was trouble to have the two of them in the same squad. He'd been pleasantly surprised to discover that wasn't the case at all, but he'd been baffled all the same at how two men who were such completely different personalities could be such good friends.

After a while, he'd decided not to question providence, but it had lingered in his mind nonetheless. And now, finally, he had his answer.

"Well," he said finally, sitting back and regarding them with open amusement. "I suppose I can stop worrying about whether you'll make it back alive from this little camping trip you have planned next weekend."

A grin lit up Bobby's face at the light attempt at a joke.

"I don't know about that. Mike seems to think I'm leading him to his doom."

"I don't do camping," Mike said flatly, when Ross threw him a quizzical look. The captain grinned openly, then.

"It's not so bad, Logan. I do it with my sons all the time."

Mike grunted, but didn't argue. Chuckling softly, Ross motioned towards the door.

"Go on, both of you. Get back to work. I'd like you to clear your paperwork before you go away next weekend, so if something does happen, God forbid, it doesn't all get dumped in your partners' laps."

"Touching," Mike retorted as they got up.

"Oh, and Logan," Ross added. Mike paused, looking back at him questioningly. Ross's eyes glinted evilly.

"Watch out for the poison ivy."

A dark look settled onto Mike's face and, muttering something under his breath that neither Bobby nor the captain particularly wanted to hear, pushed past Bobby out the door. Bobby hesitated, exchanging a rare grin with Ross, before following his brother back out into the bullpen.

* * *

_tbc..._


	3. And Then There Were Three

_Wednesday night_

"Now look who's becoming a fixture."

Elliot Stabler looked around as Mike slipped into the booth opposite him. He favoured the Major Case detective with a sour look before returning his attention to his drink.

"Go away, Logan."

Mike smirked.

"What's the matter, Stabler? Having a bad week?"

"Not that it's any of your damn business, but yes. Now go away."

Mike grunted and his grin widened, much to Elliot's irritation.

"And it's only Wednesday. Well, I guess that's karma for you."

Elliot froze as Mike's words sank in, and then his eyes slowly lifted to Mike's face.

"Excuse me? Are you trying to suggest I deserve it?"

All traces of good humour were suddenly gone from Mike's face, and he leaned forward a little over the table.

"I'm saying that maybe next time someone tells you something personal, you won't go spreading it around the whole of the damn NYPD."

For several second, the two men stared at each other. Then, abruptly, Elliot began to laugh.

"It finally caught up with you and Goren, huh? So what's the verdict, Logan? Should they be warming your desk for you out on Staten Island?"

The jibe was deliberate, and it found its mark. Mike tensed visibly in anger before managing to get control of his temper. He started to pull himself out of the booth, sparing Elliot a scathing glare.

"Next time, Stabler, just keep your goddamn mouth shut, if you can."

Elliot's hand shot out, locking onto Mike's wrist with a vice-like grip, and holding him in place.

"For your information, Logan, I never said a word to anyone about it. Not even my own partner. I know how to keep my mouth shut, I don't spread gossip, and I don't spread news that isn't mine to spread."

"Really?" Mike snapped. "Because I don't recall telling anyone else about it, except you."

He tried to extricate himself from Elliot's powerful grip, but the SVU detective wasn't letting go.

"Bar rules 101, Logan. If you don't want it getting around, then don't talk about it in a bar full of cops. I didn't spread the news, but there were plenty of others listening in who wouldn't have thought twice about it. Hell, there were a couple of guys from your own squad who were standing almost right behind you when you said it. So why don't you take it up with one of them?"

Mike fell abruptly silent as the truth of Elliot's words finally registered in his mind. Elliot let go of his wrist, and Mike dropped back into the seat with a thud, looking more than a little sheepish.

"Man… I'm sorry, really. You're right. You wouldn't have blabbed. I should've known that."

Elliot nodded, already dismissing it from his mind.

"No problem. You can go and leave me alone, now."

Mike raised an eyebrow slightly.

"Really bad week, huh?"

"Look, it's over now, and I don't particularly want to talk about it," Elliot grumbled. "I just want to drink myself into oblivion, go home, and not answer the phone for the next four days."

"Four days…?" Mike echoed. "You have tomorrow and Friday off?"

"Yeah, Captain's orders. _That's_ how bad this week has been. He booted both me and Olivia out of the squad room this afternoon, and said he didn't want to see us again until Monday. I think he would have liked me to clear out of the city entirely, actually, so he'd have an excuse not to call on us if anything came up." He shook his head wearily. "Fat chance. I mean, I know Liv is going to stay with a friend in Jersey for a few days, so she's good, but where the hell am I gonna go?"

He held back from adding that all the places he'd previously visited that were outside of New York, were places he'd gone with his family. Now that his marriage was officially over, he had no desire to go anywhere that was going to remind him of what he'd so recently lost.

Mike watched Elliot thoughtfully, wondering vaguely how Bobby would react if he were to invite Elliot to join them on their trip upstate. He weighed up the pros and cons quickly in his mind.

On the one hand, he figured it would make for a more bearable weekend, to have someone else along. Also, he felt he owed Elliot a break, after accusing him wrongly of spreading the news about him and Bobby being brothers. On the other hand, Bobby would kill him.

Mike grimaced. He still wasn't convinced that three days up a mountain _wouldn't_ kill him, so anything Bobby threatened to do to him was miniscule in comparison.

"You wanna take a trip up to the Catskills?" Mike asked abruptly, and Elliot looked up at him in mild surprise and suspicion.

"Why?"

"For a break, Stabler. Look, Bobby and I heading to the mountains tomorrow. We're going to stay in Captain Deakins' cabin up in the Catskills for a few days. We're leaving tomorrow night, after we finish work, and we'll be coming back late Sunday evening."

"You and Bobby…? So, this is like a brother thing for you guys?"

"Yeah."

Elliot looked uneasy.

"I don't know, Logan. I think I'd be intruding…"

"For God's sake, Stabler, we're brothers. Not lovers. What the hell do you think you'd be intruding on?"

Elliot hesitated in answering. After the week he'd just had, the idea of escaping the city altogether and heading up into the mountains was suddenly very appealing. All the same, though, he felt a little uneasy at the idea of gate-crashing Bobby and Mike's plans.

"Look," he said finally, "I'd like to come… But what about Goren? If he's planned this, then he probably doesn't want anyone else gate-crashing."

"I'll talk to Bobby. Hell, being the oldest has to come with _some_ benefits. I'll tell him you're coming, and that's all there is to it. But I really don't think he's going to mind. Besides, I need someone else up there to back me up if Bobby goes all _Deliverance_ on me."

Elliot raised an eyebrow in amusement.

"What, you're worried he's going to bundle you into a canoe, and get you killed on the rapids, or something?"

Mike grunted.

"Or something. I don't know what he's planning, exactly, and I suppose it's my own fault for letting him choose our first vacation together… But I swear to God, if I so much as end up with a mosquito bite, I'm gonna throttle him myself, brother or not."

Elliot was grinning into his drink by then. He could only imagine what Mike and Bobby were like when they were together for prolonged periods, but something told him it would be worth going for that particular show, if nothing else.

"Let me guess. You hate camping."

"With a vengeance," Mike stated firmly, and Elliot chuckled. "Seriously, I don't like the outdoors, but Bobby seems to think he can change my mind. I told him fat chance, but he's gonna try anyway. So, are you in, or not, Stabler?"

Elliot didn't even try to hide his grin. He didn't have the heart to tell Mike that he himself enjoyed camping, and escaping to the outdoors, and that he would be no real ally against Bobby's master plan of camping.

"Sure," he agreed finally. "Count me in… but only if Goren is okay with it. And for God's sake, Logan, don't bully him into it."

Mike's eyes widened a little in a mock look of innocent surprise that nearly had Elliot in hysterics.

"Me? Bully my own brother? That's insulting, Stabler."

"Bullshit, Logan," Elliot laughed. "Just make sure you don't. I don't wanna turn up tomorrow to find you two ready to kill each other."

Mike grinned, and nodded.

"Okay, point taken. I'll call you tomorrow and let you know the verdict."

Elliot rolled his eyes.

"Thankyou."

* * *

From the moment Mike arrived at the squad room the next morning, Bobby knew they were headed for an argument. The way that Mike avoided him was a dead giveaway, and Bobby tolerated it until mid-morning, when Mike volunteered to go out for coffee, not only for himself and Wheeler, but for Bobby and Alex as well.

"He's up to something," Alex remarked casually as they watched Mike go. Bobby frowned, annoyed by his brother's odd behaviour.

"I know. I think I might follow him, and see if I can find out what's going on. Cover for me?"

Alex nodded, and he hurried after Mike. She was just returning her attention to her paperwork, when a shadow fell across her desk. She looked up, half-expecting to see Ross there, but it was Wheeler instead. The younger woman looked baffled, Alex thought bemusedly, and a little bit concerned. It had certainly thrown her for a loop the previous week to learn that Bobby and Mike were brothers, and she seemed to be having trouble coming to grips with it, for whatever reason.

Captain Ross, Alex reflected, seemed to have had a lot less trouble accepting the fact that his two 'problem child' detectives were brothers – much to the interest of all. In fact, he seemed to have been comforted somewhat by the knowledge, almost as though he believed they were less likely to get into trouble when they each had the other to look out for.

She almost laughed at the thought. How little he knew…

"I don't suppose you know what's going on, do you?" Wheeler asked, and behind her look of puzzlement, Alex caught a glimpse of something more. She just couldn't quite place what it was. "Logan's been behaving weird all morning."

A wry smile tugged at the corners of Alex's mouth. Yes, she knew, and Wheeler seemed to be fully aware that she knew. It was all she could do not to laugh, but she managed to stifle that with thoughts of how Bobby was likely to react when he found out that she'd held out on him.

"I know that Bobby is probably going to kill Mike before the day is over."

Genuine confusion filled Wheeler's face at that.

"Why? Is he really that much against going camping?"

Alex did laugh, then, realising that Wheeler had misunderstood.

"Yes, he does, actually, but it's not that. Mike told me last night that he'd invited someone else to go with them. He's acting weird this morning because he's trying to figure out a way to tell Bobby that won't result in him getting hurt."

Alex's inference to the previous night didn't go unnoticed by Wheeler, and she hesitated, unsure whether she could legitimately ask the next question.

"Spit it out, Wheeler," Alex told her finally. "You want to know if Mike and I are a couple, am I right?"

The red flush that crept across Wheeler's face told Alex she was without Wheeler having to say a word.

"I just wondered," Wheeler stammered, and Alex couldn't resist a small smirk.

"Well, you wondered right. We are together. Have been for about seven months, actually. It's the same for Bobby and Carolyn Barek."

"The partner Mike had before me?"

Again Alex smirked, this time at her choice of phrase, but she said nothing about it. Wheeler hesitated before speaking again, suddenly feeling unsettled, and very much on the outer.

"I… noticed you all seemed pretty close."

They were very much the words of someone who was condemned to being stuck on the outside of a close knit team, looking in but never actually breaking through to become a part of it. Alex paused, gazing up at Wheeler in thoughtful silence. With just a little effort, she recalled vividly her own initial months in Major Case and how, had it not been for Jimmy Deakins' unwavering belief in her ability to do the job, and her first partner's eventual acceptance of her as an equal on the job, she would never have been accepted by the other detectives.

Wheeler was experiencing that same baptism of fire now, struggling to find acceptance among her fellow detectives. So far, she had the support of the captain, but she was yet to gain the complete acceptance of her partner. And that, Alex thought ruefully as she reflected on Mike's reluctance to put himself completely into a new partnership, was going to be hard won.

"Sit down, Megan," Alex told her, motioning to Bobby's chair. When the younger woman hesitated, Alex grinned and spoke encouragingly. "Go on, it's okay. Bobby's really not as possessive of his things as the stories suggest. And if he comes back and gives you a hard time, _I'll_ kick his ass."

Still reluctant, Wheeler sat down all the same. Once she was seated, Alex spoke again, in a more subdued tone.

"Yes, we are close. With Bobby and myself, it's partly because we've been partners for six years now. In the NYPD, that's a long time to be in the same squad, let alone with the same partner. But with the four of us… me, Bobby, Carolyn and Mike… Well, that goes back nearly about eight months. You know about what happened to Bobby and Mike eight months ago? How they were ambushed, and locked up inside a building that was scheduled to be demolished?"

Wheeler nodded. Yes, she'd heard that story. There were few cops within the ranks of the NYPD who didn't know about that.

"I heard the basics of what happened," she answered. "I've never asked Logan about it, though. I figured it probably wasn't something he'd be open to talking about."

"You're not wrong. Aside from his shrink, I think the only person Mike will talk to about it even now is Bobby. And it's the same with Bobby… Although, I have to admit, he does sometimes talk to me about it, more so now because of what happened to me. And yes, they were nearly killed. They came closer to dying than most people know. Mike spent a week with a tube down his throat because of a punctured lung, and Bobby spent a week in a coma that he nearly didn't wake up from. And I'm not over-dramatising that, either. The doctor actually switched off his life support to let him die, because he thought Bobby was brain dead. It really was a miracle that he lived. You just don't come away from an experience like that unchanged."

Wheeler conceded to that with a nod. She didn't doubt it.

"Carolyn and I had that Friday off," Alex went on. "Mike and Bobby had to work together that day. From what Captain Deakins told us later on, it was a miracle they didn't kill each other. Anyway, apparently Mike talked Bobby into going to a bar in the Bronx with him after work…"

"The Bronx?" Wheeler echoed incredulously. "Were they out of their minds?"

"We thought so, at the time. By their own admission they both got pretty drunk, but it was when they left the bar that they landed in trouble. They were ambushed outside. They tried to fight their way out of it, but they were overpowered… eight men to two, if I remember right. They were both beaten pretty badly, and they were both shot in the leg. Then the scum that attacked them bundled them into a car, and took them to that building. They were left there to die, Wheeler, and if Deakins hadn't called all four of us in on Sunday morning to attend a crime scene, then we would never have known they were missing until it was too late. Even then, we only found them because of a street kid who was brave enough to come forward. We nearly lost them, and that's part of the reason we're so close now. As for how Mike and I, and Bobby and Carolyn ended up together… Well, that was more of a fluke than anything else. We were… going somewhere together, and Mike suggested that he was a master at getting women to go out with him. He tried it on me, and I shot him down. Then Bobby asked Carolyn out, and she said yes. Later on, Mike asked me again, but seriously that time, and I said yes."

Wheeler couldn't help but look amused.

"Even with his reputation?"

Alex laughed softly at that.

"He was ten years younger then, Wheeler. But believe me when I tell you that I'm reaping the benefits of his experience."

A pair of ginger eyebrows shot up at that, and Alex smirked in answer.

"Please," Wheeler retorted. "No details. I have to work with him, after all."

"I didn't intend on divulging anyway," Alex said with a wide grin. "Now, get back to work, and stop worrying. Mike and Bobby will be fine. You'll have more to worry about on Monday if he has an encounter with poison ivy on the weekend." She paused, watching as Wheeler headed back to her desk, and then added ruefully, "And so will Bobby."

* * *

Mike didn't know that Bobby had followed him until he was actually standing the queue at Starbucks. When the hand came down firmly on his shoulder, gripping with a familiar strength, Mike damn near jumped out of his skin.

"Damn it, Bobby, do you _want_ me to shoot you?" he snapped. Bobby smiled and withdrew his hand.

"Just wondering what the problem is, Mike. You've been on edge all morning."

Mike grunted in irritation as he turned back to face the counter.

"Yeah, well, you would too, if you were just stalked like that."

"Mike, will you quit it? You've been behaving all morning like you have something you need to tell me, but you don't know how…" He trailed off abruptly, dismay in his eyes. "You're… not cancelling, are you?"

"No, I'm not," Mike assured him. "Although, God knows I wish I had a reason to." He paused, looking around, and then motioned to a table tucked away in a dimly lit corner. "Can we sit down, please? I'd like to be relatively comfortable when you kill me."

Bobby's eyebrows shot up at that, but he didn't protest as Mike led the way over to the table, and they sat down together.

"Okay, Mike. What's going on?"

Mike sighed, and rubbed his hand over his face.

"Look, just promise me you won't yell at me, okay?"

"Mike…"

"All right! I ran into Elliot Stabler last night."

"Hell, Mike… You didn't rip into him over word getting out about us being brothers, did you?"

"Well, I did, but…"

"You idiot," Bobby grumbled. "It wasn't any big deal, and Captain Ross was okay with it!"

"I know! I know… and anyway, it turned out that it wasn't Stabler who blabbed. Someone else must have overheard us, and spread the good news."

Bobby nodded thoughtfully.

"That makes sense," he agreed. "Stabler doesn't have a reputation for spreading gossip. He knows how to keep his mouth shut. So, you're just trying to tell me you lit into him for nothing?"

"No… I'm trying to tell you that I invited him to come with us tonight when we leave for the Catskills."

Absolute silence met Mike's words. Bobby said nothing, but continued to stare at his brother, until Mike finally began to shift uncomfortably.

"Actually, I think I'd prefer it if you yelled, baby brother."

"Why?" Bobby asked softly, tonelessly. Mike sucked in a sharp breath, trying to steel himself. He figured he had one shot to get this right, or Bobby might just kill him after all.

"He looked like he'd had a worse week than we had when we went to Miami, Bobby. The guy looked like he'd been hit by a friggin' truck. He just looked like he needed to get away, as much as we do."

"This is supposed to be just for us, Mike," Bobby reminded him. "Just us, and no one else. What part of that didn't you get?"

"Look," Mike said softly, putting his hands up in a defensive gesture in an effort to calm Bobby down, "Elliot said he'd like to come, but only if you're okay with it. If you really don't want him to come, then I'll call him right now, and tell him it's off."

Bobby's expression darkened again at that. He didn't appreciate the guilt trip that Mike was trying to lay on him, intentional or not, and he didn't appreciate that Mike had gone ahead an extended and invitation to someone else without coming to him first. It wasn't that he had anything against Elliot Stabler. He didn't. He thought the guy was a damned good detective, and he respected the work that he did in the Special Victims Unit. He personally considered that squad to be more elite that his own, because of the nature of the cases that they handled. Very few cops were cut out to deal with sex crimes – particularly when children were involved – and from what he'd heard, Elliot Stabler and his partner were the best there was.

No, it wasn't anything personal against the SVU detective. It was purely that he had been looking forward to spending a few days with Mike, in an environment that wasn't likely to result in them both nearly getting killed. He was more hurt than angry that Mike didn't seem to share that desire.

"What do you want me to do, Bobby?" Mike asked quietly. "You want me to call him and cancel?"

The faintest of sighs escaped Bobby's lips and, despite an almost desperate desire to tell Mike to call Elliot and tell him no, he found himself answering differently.

"No, don't do that. If… if he wants to come, it's okay by me."

"Are you sure?" Mike asked, looking as though he didn't really believe his brother. Bobby grimaced.

"Don't push it, Mike. Just call him, and tell him to meet us at my place tonight, at six. If he's late, we're leaving him behind."

"Because… he said I wasn't to bully you into agreeing…"

"Just call him!" Bobby snapped, and Mike once again held his hands up defensively.

"Okay, okay. Chill, baby brother."

Bobby let his breath out in a rush, and when he spoke it was in a significantly calmer tone.

"Just… call him. Okay?"

Mike nodded, and pulled out his cell phone.

"Okay."

* * *

When the phone finally ran that morning, Elliot was reluctant to answer it and, when he did finally pick it up, he was sorely tempted to tell Mike not to worry, that he'd made other arrangements. In the end, though, he couldn't do it. His own need to get right away from everything was just too great. And so, when he answered the phone, he said nothing.

"Stabler."

"Hey, it's me."

Elliot sucked in a long breath. He was suddenly, desperately hoping that the answer was yes. He wanted to get out of New York, and this would be his only opportunity for who knew how long.

"So… what's the verdict?" he asked, his stomach suddenly twisting into knots.

"You can come," Mike answered, and Elliot felt a surge of relief and gratitude.

"Goren's okay with me coming along, then?"

Mike hesitated for a split second in answering.

"Let's just say that he wasn't violently opposed."

Elliot frowned at that.

"So… What you're saying is that he doesn't really want me there, but he's not going to fight you over it."

"Stabler, do you want to come or not?" Mike growled. "Bobby told me to let you know it's okay, and he wouldn't have said that if he really didn't want you to come. So, what do you want to do?"

Elliot hesitated just a moment before replying.

"I'm in," he confirmed.

"Okay," Mike muttered, and Elliot wasn't entirely sure whether he sounded relieved or worried. "Get whatever you need together, and be at Bobby's place by six. Don't be late, okay?"

Elliot smiled faintly as Mike ended the call.

"Don't worry. I won't be."

* * *

Alex wasn't entirely sure whether to be worried or not when, on their return, Bobby ushered her into one of the smaller task rooms and closed the door and pulled down the blinds to keep everyone in the bullpen from observing them.

"Something wrong?" she asked, doing her best to keep her voice even. He turned to face her, and she suddenly found herself the focus of a patented Goren interrogation stare, complete with a Gumby-like dip as he bent over to make direct eye contact with her.

"You spent last night with Mike."

It was not a question, and although she knew Bobby was perfectly aware of the growing depth of her relationship with Mike – both emotional and physical – she was still annoyed to find herself blushing slightly in response to his statement. Alex stood her ground, though. She knew what he was doing, and there was no way she was going to let him intimidate her.

"Not all night. Not that it's any of your business, but I got home just after three. What's your point, Bobby?"

"You spent the night with Mike," Bobby repeated, and at the same time began advancing on her until he had her backed up against the wall. "He told you about inviting Elliot Stabler to go with him and me to the Catskills. Didn't he?"

Alex frowned, increasingly irritated by his tactics.

"Damn it, Bobby, I am not one of your suspects! Will you back off?"

He didn't move, and his expression narrowed as he zeroed in on her even more.

"Just answer me, Eames. Did he tell you, or not?"

"Yes," Alex admitted ruefully. "He did tell me. _Now_ will you back off?"

Bobby didn't move, though, and he was silent as he digested her words.

"You didn't tell me. Why not?"

She couldn't miss the disappointment in his voice, and she sighed softly. She hated disappointing her partner, but at the same time she'd made a promise to Mike. As loyal as she was to Bobby, she couldn't break a promise to her lover.

"He asked me not to say anything, Bobby. He wanted you to hear it from him directly."

"Sure," Bobby retorted scathingly and, to her relief, he finally stepped away and gave her back her breathing space. "That's why he was avoiding me all morning."

Another wave of irritation flared up in Alex at his attitude, and she rounded on him fiercely.

"If you have to know, he was trying to work out how to tell you, so you wouldn't go ballistic on him. You see, unlike yourself, Mike doesn't have quite the same oral skills, so sometimes he needs to actually take his time and think things through before he goes shooting his mouth off."

The sour look on Bobby's face didn't lessen at her words. If anything, it got worse in the face of her stinging criticism.

"Yeah," he muttered, "well, it's a pity he didn't think things through before inviting Stabler. This trip was just supposed to be him and me!"

"Is that what this is really about?" Alex asked. "You're upset because Mike invited someone else along, and it won't be just the two of you anymore? That is it, isn't it?"

Bobby's shoulders slumped.

"I was just looking forward to a couple of days away… just him and me… as brothers. It… It's the sort of thing I could never do with Richie. When Mike told me he'd invited Stabler… It was like he was telling me that he didn't want to spend any time with me… just the two of us."

Alex sighed, and leaned in to hug him reassuringly.

"You idiot, Bobby. That isn't it, not at all."

He regarded her sceptically.

"No? Because it sure seems like it."

"Look, just stop and think about it for a second. It's got nothing at all to do with Mike not wanting to spend time with you. He does, and I promise you that he's really been looking forward to this weekend… even if he's not so thrilled with the chosen destination. It's only that he was trying to show a bit of sympathy and consideration to another cop. He told me Stabler looked like a train wreck… and that reminds me of how two certain detectives looked after that week in Miami."

Bobby grimaced.

"Mike said that to me, too."

"So, is it really that hard to accept that he was just trying to be friendly to another cop?

A sigh escaped Bobby.

"You're right," he conceded.

"And, it won't be so bad having Stabler along," Alex told him. "I've spent some time talking with Olivia Benson, when some of us women have gone out together. She once told me that Stabler's right into the whole outdoors thing. Mike might just be in for a bit of a shock if he thinks that having Stabler there will give him a break from whatever you have planned."

The look on his face told her he hadn't considered that at all. He was still a little disappointed that he and Mike wouldn't be going alone, but maybe… just maybe… it would be beneficial to have Elliot along after all.

"Just give the guy a chance, okay?" Alex told him as she walked over to the door. With some reluctance, Bobby conceded with a nod.

"Okay. I guess I can do that."

"Oh, and Bobby…?"

He hesitated at that. He knew _that_ tone well enough to know that some sharp remark was coming his way, but there was nowhere for him to retreat to. Ultimately, he had no choice but to stand his ground, and take whatever was coming.

"Yes, Alex?"

She favoured him with a sugary-sweet smile at his use of her first name, but it wasn't enough to deflect what she intended to say.

"The next time you use one of your interrogation techniques on me, I'll slap you clear into next week. Am I making myself perfectly clear?"

She watched in amusement as his eyes widened and his adam's apple bobbed up and down as he struggled to find an appropriate response that wouldn't get him into anymore trouble than he was already in.

"Crystal," he stammered finally. "S… Sorry… Alex."

Still smiling, this time with satisfaction, Alex continued back out into the bullpen. Bobby stood frozen for a long moment before finally shaking off the shock of her threat, and headed out to rejoin her at their desks.

* * *

_tbc..._


	4. Beginning the Adventure

A/N: _This is just a short update, but I wanted those who are reading it to know that it isn't being forgotten. It's just really hard finding time to write at the moment. So, really, this is just an interlude chapter. _

_I have to ask this, though… and I know I may regret it… but which would you all prefer? That the trouble be of the boys' own making, or that it be the result of OC interference? (OC, being Other/Original Characters) Please let me know in your reviews. I can't guarantee how it will go, but I'm still interested to know what you folks are hoping for._

_

* * *

_

Elliot arrived at Bobby's apartment that evening, just after five-thirty. He wasn't taking any chances at being left behind. He needed to escape far too much to risk it. Mike opened the door for him, and ushered him through into the living room. Bobby was sitting on the edge of a large recliner, packing what appeared to be assorted tins of food into a backpack.

He looked up as Elliot came in, and spared the SVU detective a smile.

"Stabler. All set?"

Elliot nodded in answer. He felt like he ought to be thanking Bobby for allowing him to come, but at the same time instinct warned him not to start offering platitudes just then, and God knew he didn't want to piss Bobby Goren off any more than he suspected he already had.

"Yeah," was all he said in the end. Bobby zipped up the backpack, and sat back.

"Okay, then. Uh… there's takeout in the kitchen, if you're hungry. Just help yourself. Mike ordered too much, even for him."

Elliot tried to suppress a grin, and couldn't quite manage it.

"I'm good, thanks. I ate before I came over."

"Well, waste not, want not," Mike said flippantly, and disappeared into the kitchen. Bobby shook his head in bemusement.

"Guy eats like a damn horse. I don't know where he puts it all." He paused, noticing that Elliot was still standing, watching him in silence. "Sit down, Elliot. I'm not going to bite."

Elliot grimaced, and dropped into the nearest chair. He was feeling hopelessly uncomfortable, and if the trip was going to be a success, he had to get what was bothering him out in the open before they got on the road.

"Listen… Bobby…" He hesitated fractionally, saw no objection in the other man's eyes, and went on quickly. "I need to say something. You probably don't want to hear it, but just hear me out. Then, if you want, I'll keep my mouth shut for the next three days."

"Go on," Bobby told him quietly, watching him with a piercing gaze.

"Okay. I just wanted to say that I really do appreciate you letting me come along, and I'll do my best to stay out of your way, so you and Mike can do whatever it is you've got planned. I promise, you'll hardly see me."

Bobby's expression was inscrutable as he stared at the other man. Elliot felt increasingly nervous under his intense gaze, and was starting to think that maybe he just should have kept his mouth shut, when Bobby finally relaxed and smiled.

"It's okay, Elliot. You don't need to do that. And you're welcome to come with us, really. I… I'm sorry if I gave you the impression that that wasn't the case. And anyway, we've all got to help each other out when we can… right?"

Elliot grinned, feeling a weight lift off him. He allowed himself to relax finally, and settled back a little more in the chair.

"Right. So… You guys find out who opened their big mouth?"

"Oh yeah," Mike said with a chuckle as he emerged from the kitchen with a noodle box in hand. "Turned out it was Danny Messer, from Mack Taylor's CSU team. Nosy son of a bitch was in the bar that night, and he overheard us. He asked one of the other guys in our squad if it was true, and… Well, you can guess the rest."

"Snowball effect, huh?" Elliot wondered.

"Oh, yeah," Mike confirmed, and Bobby smiled ruefully.

"And it crashed right into our captain's office."

"He was really that pissed about it?"

"Not about us being brothers," Bobby corrected him. "It was more over us not telling him. And he did have a right to be angry over that. We should have told him."

Elliot nodded, biting back the urge to make a smart ass remark to Mike about Staten Island. Given that he wouldn't have even been going on this trip but for the consideration and sympathy of his fellow detectives, it would have been both inappropriate and ungracious. Instead, he deliberately restricted himself to a neutral remark.

"So, the captain's okay with it, then."

"Yeah," Mike confirmed. "He's okay with it. He actually seemed kind of relieved, like maybe he thought it'd keep us both out of trouble." He snorted, still amused by the thought. "He can't have talked to Deakins if he believes that."

Bobby smirked, but didn't comment. Rather, he glanced pointedly up at the clock. It read ten minutes to six.

"Are you done yet?" he asked Mike, eyeing the noodle box his brother held. Mike eyed the remains of the box, and then shrugged.

"Yeah, I guess so."

"Okay, then. Let's get this show on the road."

* * *

At approximately the same time as the men were leaving Bobby's apartment, Alex and Carolyn were sitting cosily in Carolyn's apartment with a tub of ice cream between them, and some unspecified action movie on the television. Neither was paying much attention to the film, and the topic of their conversation revolved almost exclusively around their current love interests.

"So, I hear Bobby treated you like royalty last weekend," Alex remarked with a grin. Carolyn couldn't help herself. She smiled like a Cheshire Cat.

"I can't complain. God, Alex, the man is absolutely divine! I can't believe you've never tried jumping him!"

Alex snorted with laughter.

"Thanks, but no thanks. I love him, but not like that. I do, however, want details."

Carolyn raised an eyebrow coyly.

"Details?"

That won her an annoyed shove from Alex.

"Don't hold out on me. I want to know if the graffiti on the wall of the ladies' room on the twelfth floor is true."

A bemused smile passed over Carolyn's face.

"Excuse me, but didn't you roast Mike not that long ago for sharing certain intimate details with Bobby?"

"Yes," Alex admitted, "but the difference is I have the next three days to train myself not to gape when I see him again on Monday."

Carolyn snickered.

"Okay, fine. But you'd better not let on. I don't want Bobby mad at me."

"Consider my lips sealed. Now, spill."

Carolyn thought it over for a long moment before answering in a conspiratorial whisper.

"I can tell you right now that the theory about foot and hand size is absolutely true."

Alex's eyes widened.

"Really? _That_ big?"

Carolyn nodded, allowing a self-satisfied smirk to quirk her lips.

"Yes. _That_ big. And… oh my god, Alex… He has got the cutest ass… Not to mention, this fetish for sex in unusual places."

"Unusual?"

"Uh huh. Let's just say that I'll never look at another treadmill in the same way again."

Alex couldn't help it. She choked on the ice cream she'd just spooned into her mouth, and it shot up into her sinuses. She coughed helplessly for a couple of minutes while trying to regain some sense of equilibrium.

"Shit, Carolyn…"

"You asked."

"I know… More fool me."

Smirking, Carolyn sat back and idly stirred the rapidly melting ice cream. Slowly, her smirk faded and a concerned look filtered onto her face. Alex quickly noticed and, though she suspected she knew what was wrong, she still ventured a question regardless.

"You're worried about them, aren't you?"

Carolyn chewed her lip lightly.

"I know they're just going away for the weekend, but I can't help it. That night… They were _just_ going out for a drink together, and we nearly lost them. I can't help but worry about what might happen with them going all the way to the Catskills for three days."

Alex tried to smile, but couldn't quite manage it.

"We have to trust them to take care of themselves some time, Carolyn."

The other woman snorted loudly at that.

"Take care of themselves. That's a good one. I _know_ for a fact that Mike is incapable of that, and Bobby really isn't that much better. Can you imagine them with Elliot Stabler thrown into the mix?"

Try as she might, Alex was unable to stifle the giggle that erupted from her throat, and it came out as more of a snort than a burst of laughter.

"Mikey, Bobby and the infamous Elliot Stabler. What a combination. If there's anything to worry about, it's them coming home with bruises from trying to beat each other up."

"You're really not worried?" Carolyn asked incredulously, and Alex sighed in defeat.

"Of course I am. But there's nothing we can do and like I said, we have to trust them to start taking care of themselves some time. It might as well be now. Besides, I already considered following them up there, and decided it wasn't worth the hell I'd get from the captain _and_ the guys."

Carolyn sighed heavily, and picked up her glass of wine.

"Well, here's to the boys. May they all come back in one piece."

Alex lifted her own glass in response.

"Amen to that."

* * *

They arrived late into the night, after Mike demanded a pit stop to 'grab a couple of necessities'. In a scene that reminded Bobby greatly of their trip to Miami, while he and Elliot talked outside, Mike trolled through the bodega and loaded up a shopping basket with all manner of junk food. The difference this time was that Bobby didn't realise what his brother was doing until Elliot commented on the amount of junk that Mike had bought, and by then it was too late.

"Mikey," Bobby had growled as Mike emerged from the shop with two over-full shopping bags. Mike shrugged, unapologetic.

"You want me to enjoy myself, Bobby? Then you've gotta make some concessions. And one of them is junk food. If I absolutely _have_ to go on nature walks with you, then I need to have something to look forward to when I get back."

Elliot had stayed silent during the discussion, all the while smiling in quiet amusement. Here were two men, both of whom he suspected had grown up having it instilled in them that they only had themselves to rely on, and suddenly they'd found they were not anywhere near so alone as they'd previously believed. He could sense a natural irritation between the two men, but above and beyond that was a much deeper sense of brotherly love.

Bobby and Mike were lucky to have each other, Elliot reflected with just a hint of longing, and he strongly suspected that they both knew it.

* * *

"Big cabin," Elliot remarked as they carried their bags inside. Bobby nodded.

"Yes, it is. Captain Deakins helped to design it himself."

"Ah… About the sleeping arrangements," Elliot said, suddenly feeling awkward again. Bobby smiled wryly, too tired to bother with tormenting the SVU detective.

"There are three bedrooms. One downstairs, and two upstairs. All three of them have their own ensuite. The captain found it was easier to do it that way, than have his daughters fighting over the use of one bedroom."

"Well, I'll take the downstairs bedroom, then, if no one minds," Elliot offered, and the other men nodded their acquiescence. As Elliot was heading towards the downstairs bedroom, he could hear Bobby and Mike arguing as they headed upstairs.

"I swear to God, Bobby, if you try hauling my ass out of bed before the sun is up tomorrow, I may just shoot you."

"You didn't bring your gun, Mike."

"Did I specify when, smart ass…?"

Not for the first time, and not for the last, Elliot wondered whether going with the two brothers had been such a brilliant idea after all.

* * *

_tbc..._


	5. The First Day

A/N: _It's official - I'm a bitch. Specifically, with regard to the end of this chapter. I'd apologise, but I'm not really sorry at all. shrugs That's the way it goes. Read, and enjoy._

* * *

The scream split the silence, shattering it like a pane of glass. Elliot sat bolt upright in bed, his heart in his throat at the unexpected sound that had wrenched him so violently from his sleep. He stayed where he was, frozen and trying to convince himself that it had just been the remnants of a bad dream, when a second scream tore through the quiet.

Launching himself out of bed, Elliot flew out of the bedroom to find out what was going on.

* * *

There appeared to be no movement, or indeed any kind of disturbance within the house, leaving Elliot puzzled and worried. After a moment of indecision, he headed upstairs with extreme caution to see whether Bobby and Mike were okay.

He was almost to the top of the stairs when he heard a guttural sob through the open door of one of the two upstairs bedrooms, followed by a low voice murmuring reassurances.

"C'mon, Mikey, wake up. It's just a nightmare. You have to wake up now…"

Elliot ventured slowly up the remainder of the stairs, and around to the open door. He peered inside and was greeted with a sight that touched him deeply.

Bobby sat on the edge of Mike's bed, cradling his brother in his arms. Mike seemed to be awake, finally, but he was oblivious to anything happening around him as he sobbed wretchedly into his brother's shoulder. Elliot was just about to make a strategic retreat when Bobby happened to glance up, and saw him there.

"Everything okay?" Elliot asked, feeling more than ever like he was intruding. Bobby nodded, his expression inscrutable.

"We're fine. Do you think you could maybe go back downstairs, and make some coffee?"

"Sure," Elliot agreed, and quickly exited the room, leaving the brothers alone.

* * *

Fifteen minutes later, Bobby wandered into the kitchen where Elliot was waiting, and poured himself a steaming cup. He took a sip, and sighed with audible relief.

"You make great coffee, Elliot."

Elliot smiled wryly.

"You sound surprised."

"Actually, I'm not. I've heard the horror stories about John Munch's coffee, so it makes sense that you'd learn how to brew a decent pot yourself."

Elliot had to laugh softly at that. Bobby didn't know how right he was. Many was the time that he'd had to tip out the sludge that Munch had brewed behind the lanky detective's back, and make a fresh pot that didn't threaten to poison the entire population of the SVU.

"Well, you're not wrong about that. Uh… So, is Mike okay?"

Bobby sank slowly into a chair opposite Elliot, and took another couple of sips before speaking.

"He will be. He's in the shower now."

"Well… It sounded like one hell of a bad dream. I don't think I've ever heard anyone scream like that before."

Bobby sighed softly, and scrubbed his hands over his face. This was perhaps one of the main reasons he'd originally objected to Mike inviting Elliot along, and he'd been stunned that Mike hadn't realised that having the SVU detective along would throw open the doors and thoroughly expose their personal traumas.

"We both have bad nightmares, Elliot. Ever since that weekend when we were trapped together in that building, we've had them. They've slowly become less frequent, but they've never completely gone away."

Elliot kept himself from asking further questions by biting into an apple. Bobby regarded him curiously for a moment before speaking again.

"We've both tried hard to forget about that weekend, but there are some things we just can't forget. As for the rest… We remember the rest through our dreams, even though we don't necessarily want to. I have some pretty terrifying nightmares sometimes, but it's worse for Mike. When the building came down on top of us, I was already unconscious. He wasn't."

Elliot stared at Bobby in shock.

"He was awake for that?"

"Yes. And he remembers it vividly."

"Damn. No wonder he has nightmares. I would too, if I'd had a whole damn building come down on top of me. Listen, I'll keep my mouth shut. Mike doesn't have to know you told me anything."

Bobby nodded, grateful that Elliot understood.

"Thanks, but it's okay. He told me before I came down that it was okay to tell you if you asked. We're not trying to keep secrets. It's just…"

"Personal," Elliot suggested, and Bobby nodded his agreement.

"Right. But at least if it happens again this weekend… If you hear one of us screaming like that… You'll understand why."

"Look, you don't have to answer me," Elliot said quietly, "but I have to ask. How bad was it really? I mean, I've heard plenty of stories, but I'm betting none of them compare to what it was really like."

"It was the most terrifying thing I'd ever been through," Bobby stated flatly. "We really did think we were going to die. From the moment we saw the explosives, and realised exactly where we were, we really believed we were dead men. Mike, though… He never quit. Neither of us did, but Mike went that extra step. He saved my life, more than once. I had blood poisoning, from being shot. Mike ignored his own needs to make sure I survived, and he didn't let me give up. Then, later on, I found out that he'd tried to shield me when the building started to collapse on top of us. He did everything he possibly could for me while we were trapped in that cage. He didn't have to do it, but he did. He could have avoided being in that situation altogether… We found out later that I was the target, not Mike. But he let himself be taken along with me. He didn't… didn't abandon me, and I'll always be grateful to him for that, most of all."

"And all that _before_ you ever learned you were brothers," Elliot mused. Bobby nodded soberly.

"Yes. Long before we found out. He's not just my brother. He's my best friend."

"I really feel like I shouldn't be here now," Elliot said ruefully. "I'm sorry, Bobby. I really had no idea."

"It's okay, Elliot," Bobby murmured, quietly surprised that any and all feelings of animosity he'd previously had were entirely gone, dissipated in the face of Elliot's empathy. "I really don't mind. Mike was right to invite you. And… maybe you can help me convince him that nature isn't a disease to be avoided."

Elliot chuckled at that.

"He really does hate camping, doesn't he?"

"That's putting it mildly."

"Okay, then. Count me in."

* * *

Bobby and Elliot were still grinning when Mike emerged into the kitchen, looking refreshed after a long, hot shower. He paused the doorway, eyeing them both critically before speaking.

"Why do I suddenly feel like the sucker here?"

"Now why would you feel like that, Mikey?" Elliot asked with a smirk, and Mike shot him a dirty look in response.

"Watch it, Stabler. Remember, you're the guest on this little excursion, and you haven't earned the right to call me 'Mikey' yet."

Bobby raised an eyebrow with him.

"You mean that's a privilege to be earned? I'm honoured."

"Screw you," Mike said good-naturedly as he helped himself to the coffee. "You have little brother privileges. SVU's golden boy here has yet to prove he's worthy."

"Little brother privileges," Bobby mused, grinning into his mug. "I feel like I ought to be offended, but I can't figure out why."

As he walked around, Mike reached out and ruffled Bobby's hair, much to the other man's irritation, and to Elliot's amusement.

"You're a smart guy, Bobby, but sometimes you're totally clueless. Anyone ever told you that?"

"Yeah, all the time," Bobby retorted. "And since she's now officially your girlfriend, I look forward to passing that torch onto you, _Mikey_."

"You think I've got troubles, _Robert_? Wait till you start getting really serious with Carolyn."

Bobby only grinned into his coffee, and didn't bother to respond.

* * *

"I must be out of my friggin' mind," Mike muttered, not for the first time, as the three men steadily made their way up a narrow path.

"It's not that bad, Mike," Bobby said over his shoulder to him. "This hike is classified as easy."

"Easy?" Mike snorted. "I don't want to know what 'hard' is. Can we please stop? I need a drink."

Rolling his eyes, Bobby slowed to a halt and turned back just in time to see Mike pulling a small hip flask from inside his jacket.

"Mike, what the hell is that?"

Mike looked up at Bobby, eyes wide in mock innocence.

"Nothing. Nothing at all."

"All right," Bobby growled and held out one hand to his brother. "Hand it over."

"C'mon, Bobby! You're gonna deprive me of one of the few pleasures I've got out here?"

Bobby didn't so much as blink.

"You can have it back when we get back to the cabin. You drink alcohol while we're walking, and you'll dehydrate so fast you won't know what hit you."

"He's right," Elliot agreed. "Save the booze for tonight, Mike. Then you'll at least be able to enjoy it."

"You're supposed to be on my side," Mike grumbled as he finally allowed Bobby to take the flask from him and slip it into his pocket.

"I am, Mike," Elliot assured him with a grin. "That's why I'm agreeing with Bobby, and not letting you fuck yourself over by doing something stupid like drinking alcohol on a hike."

"Fine," Mike snapped, and took a couple of mouthfuls from the water bottle that Bobby had insisted he carry.

"I thought your opinions of water as a beverage had changed, Mike," Bobby commented as he drank from his own bottle. Though it was said lightly enough, there was an underlying tone to his words that both Mike and Elliot heard, but only Mike understood.

Mike stood there, suddenly very still and quiet. Finally, he turned his gaze back to Bobby, who had the good grace to wear a remorseful expression.

"I didn't need that reminder, Bobby."

"I know, Mike. I'm sorry."

Where he stood observing them, Elliot desperately wanted to ask what was going on, but sensed that to do so would only be intruding. So, he stayed quiet, all the while hoping that at least one of the brothers would concede and clue him in. His wish was answered when Mike noticed him watching them, and spoke in a rueful voice.

"When we were locked up… in that cage… we were left with two bottles of water between us. It was just barely enough to keep us alive until… you know. Problem was, we'd been out doing some heavy drinking right before we got jumped."

"Already dehydrated," Elliot mused. "Those bottles wouldn't have gone far."

"They did," Bobby said soberly, "because Mike made sure of it. Except, the idiot took advantage of my not so brilliant state of mind, and did a switch. He poured at least half of his bottle into mine. He figured I needed it more, because of my blood poisoning."

"Crappy situation," Elliot muttered.

"Yeah," Mike agreed. "That's pretty much it."

"Last I heard," Bobby mused as they continued on their way, "Alex and Carolyn were still debating which was worse. That weekend, or Miami."

Mike snorted.

"From their perspective? Miami. They didn't even know we were missing that weekend, until midday on the Sunday. At least in Miami, they knew what was going on, because they were right in the middle of it."

Bobby favoured Mike with a well-practised, unamused look.

"They'd probably both shoot you, if they heard you put it like that."

Mike snorted.

"Or worse. Handcuffs..."

"And not in a good way," Bobby said, cutting him off with an exasperated roll of his eyes. "I _know_."

"I probably don't want to know, do I?" Elliot asked, and Mike gave a short, sharp laugh.

"Maybe we'll give you a rundown of it tonight. Oh, it was a real hoot. Right, Bobby?"

"Shut up and keep walking, Mikey."

* * *

They reached the lookout point a couple of hours later, and while Elliot and Bobby went to the edge of the precipice to admire the view, Mike collapsed onto a large rock and tried to regain his breath and his equilibrium from the solid uphill walk.

"Man, this is great," Elliot said softly, the awe evident in his tone as they took in the panoramic view from the precipice.

"If you like this," Bobby said, "then you'll love the view from the mountain lookouts. It's spectacular."

"You've been here before, then?" Elliot asked, and Bobby nodded in answer, gazing out across the wilderness before them with obvious satisfaction.

"Yes, I have. Captain Deakins has given me the use of the cabin a number of times."

"That's some relationship you must have with him."

Bobby hesitated in responding to that. He knew Elliot had meant no disrespect, but at the same time Bobby could easily detect his curiosity. He couldn't blame the other man, either, and after a moment's consideration he decided that he didn't mind talking about it.

"When I first started in Major Case, I had a... a difficult time. The longest partnership I had lasted for just three weeks, and another partner walked out after one day. I went through seven partners in three and a half months."

"Ouch," Elliot muttered. Like any cop, he knew the importance of a working partnership, and he could appreciate Bobby's embarrassment at that admission.

"Anyway, after my seventh partner in a row quit, I went to Deakins. I told him that I was the problem, and that I'd leave, rather than cause him anymore difficulties. He refused to accept my transfer request, though. He asked me to wait it out a while longer, and give him a chance to find someone who was willing to work with me. I was sceptical, but I agreed, mainly because I respected Deakins, and it seemed like he was taking it personally that I wasn't able to work with anyone. I guess I must have been pretty badly stressed by then, because he invited me to come here for a weekend... with him and his family. I tried to refuse, but he wouldn't take no for an answer. So, I gave in and went along... It was the best weekend I'd had for a long time. I got to spend time with people who didn't treat me like a freak. And being up here... in this place... It calmed me, and gave me a chance to think things through. I accepted that Deakins was right. If I quit Major Case, it would have been the biggest mistake of my life. So, when we went home, I waited, and the next partner Deakins lined up to work with me was Alex. And..."

"The rest is history?" Elliot suggested with a smile. Bobby laughed softly.

"Right. But that's why I love this place. It's all good memories. It's a place I've been able to come to whenever I hit the wall, and couldn't go on anymore. A view like this? It... makes all the little discomforts worthwhile."

Movement drew their attention, and they looked to see Mike had joined them.

"Gotta admit, it's a pretty damned good view," he conceded. "Would want to get to close to the edge, though."

"Scared of heights, Mike?" Elliot asked teasingly.

"Are you kidding me? One slip, and it's lights out, pal. The view is awesome, but I'm just as happy to take it in from a distance."

"Is that your way of saying you're ready to go back to the cabin?" Bobby asked, trying hard not to sound disappointed at Mike's apparent lack of interest. Mike, however, shook his head vigorously.

"After the effort took to get up here? I don't think so. Give me ten minutes to recover, and then we can look around a bit. Didn't you say there are some weird rock formations close by?"

Neither Mike nor Elliot could possibly miss the way that Bobby's face lit up, and he motioned off to the left.

"Yes... yes, there are. It's just a ten minute walk that way. The path is a little narrow, but it's flat."

"Flat," Mike sighed as he sat down again and took another mouthful of water. "I like the sound of that."

While Bobby returned his attention to the lookout, and the view it offered, Elliot joined Mike briefly on the rock.

"That was nice, Mike," he murmured, keeping his voice deliberately low. Mike shrugged.

"Hey, I'm not a completely heartless, selfish bastard. Coming here might not have been my choice, but I'm not going to ruin it for Bobby. Being here means a lot to him, so it means something to me, too."

Again, Elliot was struck by the bond that the two brothers shared, and the lengths that each seemed to be prepared to go to for the other.

"You guys are lucky," Elliot said softly. Mike smiled. He didn't want or need Elliot to elaborate on that comment.

"Yeah. I know we are. But do you see now why I defended Bobby that night in the bar? And it wasn't just because he's my brother."

"Yeah, I think I get that now," Elliot assured him. "He's a good guy. I'm sorry I jumped to conclusions."

Mike's smile widened in appreciation of Elliot's admission.

"Thanks."

"No problem."

Elliot stood, stretching as he did so, and then headed back to join Bobby at the edge of the lookout.

He was just about level with the big detective when he stepped on some loose gravel, and his foot skidded underneath him. Barely able to find the time to yelp in surprise as his feet went from underneath him, Elliot pitched forward and, unable to stop his momentum, went tumbling over the edge of the precipice...

* * *

_tbc..._


	6. The Beginning of Trouble

He was falling...

Elliot saw the long, terrifying drop coming towards him, and felt a strange sort of calm – completely the opposite compared to what he would have expected to feel at the apparent moment of his death. He put his hands out in an instinctive reflex to stop his fall, even though there was nothing there to brace himself against, and he waited for that moment when his body tumbled all the way over.

He grunted in pain as an arm wrapped forcefully around his waist, and he was jerked violently to the side and thrown to the safety of solid ground. All the wind was knocked from his body, and he gasped in shock as the realisation struck that he wasn't falling to his death after all. Slowly, the haze clouding his vision cleared, and he looked around to discover Bobby had tackled him in an effort to save him from going over the edge.

Elliot turned his head, shaken, to see Bobby on the ground beside him, one arm still firmly around his waist. The other man looked as deeply shaken as he felt.

"You okay?" Bobby asked in a voice that sounded a little on the hoarse side. Elliot tried to swallow, only to find his mouth was utterly dry.

"Depends. Uh... I think you can let go of me now, Bobby."

"Sorry," Bobby mumbled, releasing his hold on the SVU detective. Elliot shook his head.

"Don't apologise. I'm grateful."

He sat up, and rubbed the back of his hand across his eyes and forehead in an effort to clear the sweat that was beaded there.

"What the hell happened?" Mike asked as he came over and offered a hand to each man to help them up.

"My foot skidded," Elliot answered. "I just slid... couldn't stop myself. Damn, that was close." He looked across at Bobby, fresh appreciation in his eyes as it sank in that the big detective had just saved his life. "Thankyou."

"It's okay," Bobby murmured. "You _are_ okay, aren't you?"

Elliot paused in answering, checking himself over briefly.

"Fine. Maybe a bruise or two from being tackled, but don't you dare apologise for _that_. I'd rather have a couple of bruises, than be pulp at the bottom of a cliff."

"Bobby, give me that flask," Mike said firmly. Still shaken by what had nearly happened, Bobby handed the flask over to his brother without protest. Mike unscrewed the cap, and held it out to Elliot. "Here. Take a mouthful."

Elliot hesitated, eyeing the bottle sceptically.

"Mike..."

"You nearly took a tumble over a fifty foot drop, Stabler. Have a friggin' drink."

Deciding one mouthful couldn't hurt, Elliot accepted the flask and lifted it to his lips. He then held it out to Bobby.

"Your turn, big guy."

Bobby started to shake his head, but Elliot pushed the flask into his hand.

"Bobby, if your heart rate is as high as mine is right now, then you need a swig of this as much as I do. Have a drink, and then we're getting the hell off of this lookout before something else happens."

Grimacing, Bobby gave in and took a mouthful of the burning liquid. He handed the flask over to Mike, who helped himself to a quick draught and then slipped it back into his jacket pocket before Bobby could think to take it off him again.

"Okay," Mike said as they moved carefully back from the edge of the precipice. "Where to now?"

Elliot and Bobby exchanged glances. Both men heard the hopeful tone in Mike's voice. He was very obviously hoping they'd both agree to heading back to the cabin, and after the fright he'd just had, Elliot was not averse to that idea. A single look told him that Bobby was not disinclined to agree with that line of thought, either.

"Let's head back down," Bobby decided. "We can do some more climbing tomorrow."

"Thank God," Mike muttered, and Bobby laughed faintly.

"You don't get out of it that easy, Mike. There are still things to do at the cabin."

"Uh huh. Like what?"

"Fishing, for one," Bobby suggested. "Either from the dock, or from the boat."

"I'll fish," Mike conceded, deciding it was an agreeable alternative to more hiking. "But not from any dinky little boat. We're staying on the dock."

Bobby laughed again, a little stronger this time.

"You got it, pal."

* * *

By the time they arrived back at the cabin, none of them were particularly inclined to rush off to a new activity. Mike promptly excused himself and disappeared into his room with a bottle of his favourite beer and a large packet of peanut M&Ms, while Elliot headed off to have a shower, and change his clothes. After a moment's consideration, Bobby decided a shower was a more than pleasing option, and headed upstairs to do the same.

He was aching considerably, and caught himself wincing a couple of times as he stripped off in the bedroom, slung a towel around his waist and headed into the ensuite.

_Not as young as you used to be_, he lamented silently when he paused to observe his reflection. If he was feeling like this now, then he dreaded to think how he might have been feeling, had he opted to go on one of the harder hiking paths. The irony was that for all his moaning, Mike seemed to have come off the hike in the best condition of all three of them.

_Lucky son of a bitch_, Bobby mused with a wry smile.

There was a sudden rap on the door, drawing him out of his reverie.

"Bobby, you decent?"

Bobby rolled his eyes.

"More or less," he answered. "You can come in, Mike."

The door swung open, and Mike stepped in. He hesitated just briefly at the sight of his brother clad only in a towel before shrugging off the momentary embarrassment and speaking to him.

"I was just thinking. This fishing thing..."

"What about it?"

"Well, what happens if we catch something?"

Bobby raised an eyebrow incredulously.

"Are you kidding me, Mike? If we catch a fish, then we'll cook it and eat it. What did you think we'd do? Kiss it and throw it back?"

"Don't be disgusting. I figured you probably had that in mind. I just wanted to make it clear that if we do catch anything, then I'm not doing that whole cleaning and gutting thing, okay?"

It was all Bobby could do to keep from laughing out loud at that. The sudden image in his mind of Mike trying to prepare a freshly caught fish for cooking was almost too much for him to cope with.

"Okay, Mike. If we catch anything, I promise I'll do the dirty work. Okay?"

Mike nodded, pacified.

"Okay. I'll leave you alone now... Fuck!"

Bobby jumped a little, startled by the unexpected expletive.

"What? What is it?"

"Your arm! Don't tell me you didn't notice?"

Bobby looked down in confusion.

"What are you talking about?"

Striding over, Mike grabbed Bobby's left wrist and yanked his arm up, revealing an ugly gash on the underside. Bobby gaped at it, stunned.

"How...?"

"You mean to say you really didn't notice this?"

"No, I didn't," Bobby growled, and he pushed past Mike back into his room and grabbed his jacket and shirt up off the bed, where he'd discarded them on the bed. On closer examination, he discovered the left sleeve of both his jacket and his shirt had been torn open, and both were well and truly bloodied from the wound.

"Great," he muttered sourly. "Just great."

"You must have done that when you tackled Elliot," Mike murmured. "Looks painful..."

Bobby shook his head.

"It doesn't hurt much. Don't mention it to Elliot, okay? I don't want him thinking it was his fault."

"Don't worry, I won't," Mike murmured. "You need some help fixing that up?"

Bobby shook his head.

"No. I'll clean it in the shower. It'll be fine."

"Okay, then," Mike conceded. "Give a yell if you do need any help."

Bobby smiled wryly at his brother's retreating figure.

"Don't worry. I will."

* * *

_Special Victims Unit,  
New York City_

Detectives John Munch and Fin Tutuola were just getting ready to head out to chase up leads on their most recent case when their captain, Don Cragen, emerged from his office and called them over.

"Something wrong, Captain?" Fin asked, sensing a problem.

"Yes, as a matter of fact, there is," Cragen said grimly. "You both remember Darius Blake?"

"Remember him?" Munch snorted. "It's a little hard to forget him. Son of a bitch killed five women, three men, and kidnapped Liv and nearly gutted Elliot. He's not high on our list of favourite people."

"What about him?" Fin asked, throwing Munch a grim glance.

"He's escaped," Cragen said bluntly, stunning Fin and Munch into momentary silence.

"You're kidding..." Fin said finally, and Cragen shook his head in agitation.

"I'm not. Son of a bitch was brought to the city to testify against another inmate. The idiots actually let him out of his shackles to testify on the stand. He broke loose, grabbed a gun from one of the court guards, and shot dead three people in the process of escaping. Two cops and a civilian."

"Great," Munch muttered as he turned to go. "So now we've got to go and catch him all over again."

"It's a little bit worse than that, Munch," Cragen said quietly. When both men turned back to look at him, he spoke in a low, sober tone. "Please tell me that one of you knows where Elliot is?"

Fin and Munch exchanged glances, and then Fin took a step closer to the captain.

"He never told us he was going anywhere. Isn't he at home?"

"I tried his place, and there's no answer, just the standard not available message on his answering machine. I tried his cell, and I just got a message saying that the phone is outside the service area."

"Did Blake make a threat against Elliot?" Munch asked.

"I just got a call from the warden at the prison," Cragen explained. "They just finished a search of Blake's cell, and they found a notebook hidden in a compartment inside his chess board case. It details what he planned on doing when he got out, and those plans include killing Olivia and Elliot. Now, I've gotten a hold of Olivia, and she's safe. But I don't know where Elliot is. I need to find him, and warn him."

"Okay," Fin said quickly. "We'll head straight over to Elliot's place, and see if we can't figure out where he's gone."

"Be careful, both of you!" Cragen called after them. "Apparently Blake escaped several hours ago, but they only saw fit to contact us now. If he hasn't already visited Elliot's place, you can be damned sure he's going to. Don't take any chances. Blake is dangerous."

* * *

"Okay," Munch said dryly as he and Fin stood in the doorway of Elliot's apartment. "I think it's safe to say that Blake's been here."

"Unless Elliot makes a habit of living in a pigsty," Fin added.

The two men ventured forward, picking their way past over-turned furniture, scattered books, clothes, and other personal belongings that littered the floor of the apartment. The place looked like it had been hit by a tornado – someone had gone through it in an absolute rage, leaving precious little untouched.

"We need to find out where Elliot's gone," Fin muttered as he made his way over to the phone.

"Cragen said there was just the standard message on the answering machine," Munch reminded him. "And it's not like he would have left a note. He didn't even tell Liv if he was going somewhere."

"That's because when Liv went to Jersey to stay with her friend, Elliot still hadn't made up his mind what he was doing. I think he'd planned on just shutting himself away in his apartment for four days and ignoring everyone."

"Very healthy," Munch retorted, drawing a bemused look from Fin.

"Look who's talking, John."

Munch ignored the jibe.

"If Elliot was staying here, then Blake already has him."

"No, I don't think so," Fin countered. "Look at this place. Blake was in a real rage. He trashed the apartment for the opposite reason, because Elliot _wasn't_ here. The question is, did Elliot leave behind some clue about where he was going?"

"I hate to have to do this," Munch said finally, "but I think we're going to have to call Kathy."

"You want to call his ex? And tell her what?"

"We don't have to tell her anything," Munch argued. "But he might have called her and told her what his plans were. You know, in case the kids asked after him, or something."

Fin couldn't fault the logic of that argument.

"Okay," he conceded. "Let's go pay her a visit."

* * *

_The Catskills_

"I can't believe I let you talk me into getting into a boat," Mike grumbled as Elliot switched off the outboard motor and dropped the small anchor to keep the boat in place in the middle of the lake."

"We were never going to catch anything from the dock," Elliot told him unapologetically. "You've gotta be out on the water to really make it worth while."

"Well, you could have left me on the dock!" Mike whined. "I told you, I hate boats!"

"And yet you travelled to Staten Island every day from Manhattan for ten years," Bobby pointed out as he dropped a line into the water.

"That's a completely different situation," Mike growled. "Firstly, no friggin' way was I moving to Staten Island from Manhattan. Secondly, the Staten Island ferry is a hell of a lot bigger than this thing."

"Two rules, Mike," Bobby advised him. "Don't stand up, and don't fall in. It's easy."

"Don't fall in," Mike retorted. "You're hilarious, Robert. I swear, if I get so much as one toe wet..."

Silence fell as the three men became lost in their own thoughts. Nearly an hour had passed, broken only occasionally by the three men, when the boat suddenly rocked noticeably.

"Hey!" Mike burst out, grabbing at the sides of the boat in momentary panic.

"Relax, Mike," Bobby said in amusement as the boat gradually ceased its rocking. "I've got something on my line, that's all."

Mike twisted around, peering briefly over the edge of the boat and into the clear water.

"Can't see anything," he grumbled. A moment later, the boat rocked again as Bobby's line was tugged firmly.

"What do you think you might have there?" Elliot asked.

"Trout, I hope," Bobby said as he began to reel his line back in. "Maybe bass... But if it's a good sized trout, we'll get a good meal out of it."

The boat rocked again, even more violently, and this time all three men had to grab the sides of the boat.

"Feels pretty damn big to me," Mike said uneasily. "You wanna reel that thing in before we all end up in the water?"

Chuckling, Bobby began to reel his catch in as fast as he dared, and within a minute they could see a beautiful big trout struggling just beneath the surface of the water.

"The net," Bobby said quickly. "Someone grab the net."

Later on, none of them were entirely sure just what had gone wrong. All they knew was that Mike and Elliot had reached for the net at the same moment – the net which was on the same side of the boat that Bobby was sitting on. The sudden movement to the starboard side, combined with a sudden, fierce pull from the hooked fish, caused the boat to tip wildly to the side.

Bobby went in first, tumbling head-first into the water, and Mike and Elliot followed as the boat capsized. They surfaced one by one, spluttering and searching for purchase on the upturned hull of the little boat.

"All right," Mike choked out. "Who do I kill?"

"Shut up, and help us turn the boat over," Bobby spluttered. "Unless you want to swim back to the dock?"

Between the three of them, they managed to turn the boat back over. Bobby clambered back in with some difficulty, and then pulled first Mike and then Elliot back in.

"Well... There goes dinner," Bobby said ruefully as he tried to empty his water-logged ears.

"Forget about dinner," Elliot retorted. "If we can't get the motor started, we'll be swimming back after all."

"It's flooded," Bobby said after a few unsuccessful tries. "Damn it..."

"Here, let me try," Elliot said, maneouvring carefully past Bobby, and taking up position at the motor. Bobby settled back into the seat next to Mike.

"You okay?" he asked, not entirely sure that he even wanted an answer. Mike hesitated, and then sighed and nodded.

"Yeah, I'm okay. Cold and wet, but okay. What the hell happened, anyway? One second we're about to catch dinner, and the next we're in the damn water!"

"We broke one of the golden rules," Bobby told him. "A little boat like this wasn't designed to have all the weight on one side."

"Next time," Mike grumbled, "we stay on the damn dock, like I said we should've."

"I'm sorry, Mike," Bobby murmured, sounding genuinely upset. "First the lookout, and now this... It's not exactly how I planned this trip going."

Mike laid a hand on his brother's shoulder in a reassuring gesture.

"It's okay, Bobby. If nothing else, we can at least say we haven't have had a boring time."

Bobby laughed softly.

"Well, you're right about that."

"Just as long as the women don't find out about this particular little incident," Mike added, throwing Bobby a threatening look. "You _know_ Carolyn'll blame me."

"Don't worry, big brother," Bobby reassured him with a relieved grin. "It's strictly between us."

"And that goes for you too, Stabler," Mike called out. Elliot smirked back at them over his shoulder.

"You think I want Liv to find out we took a dunk in the lake before the first day was up? I don't think so."

He gave a yank on the cord, and the motor sputtered loudly and and roared to life.

"Thank God," Mike sighed as the boat began to move back towards shore. "I vote that we spend the rest of the day _inside_."

Bobby and Elliot exchanged looks, and then Bobby nodded his concession.

"Okay, Mike."

Elliot added his voice in agreement.

"And here's hoping nothing else happens, and we have a nice, dull evening in."

Mike nodded emphatically.

"Amen to that."

* * *

_tbc..._


	7. The Art of Male Bonding

"Are you really pissed off at me?"

Mike looked up in surprise from where he sat on the sofa with a large mug of hot coffee, to find Bobby standing there looking almost sick with guilt and worry.

"You really think that? Damn… Sit down, Bobby."

Bobby sat beside him, not quite able to look him in the eye. Mike watched him for a moment before speaking, and quietly reminded himself of Bobby's almost compulsive need to seek approval. With that in mind, he spoke in a gentle, yet firm tone to his brother.

"Okay. I'm going to tell you this once, and once only, so you damn well look me in the eye." With some reluctance, Bobby raised his eyes to meet his brother's. Once he had, Mike went on quietly. "No, I am not pissed off with you, Bobby. Okay, so I'm not a big fan of nature. You know it, I know it… Hell, half the NYPD knows it after my little brush with that freakin' poison ivy candle last year. But that doesn't mean I hate being here."

Bobby shifted uncomfortably.

"You aren't enjoying yourself," he pointed out. Mike uttered a short laugh at that.

"Don't let looks deceive you, pal. I got a hell of a kick watching you and Elliot in the water. It's just a pity that I had to get wet, too. So I may not have enjoyed so much hauling my ass up that hill this morning. Doesn't mean I didn't enjoy the view once we got where we were going. And no, I didn't enjoy getting wet, but up till then I was actually starting to enjoy being out there on the lake. It was peaceful, you know. That's not something we get a lot of back home. So don't sit there wallowing in your own guilt because you think I'm having a lousy time, because I'm not. I'm enjoying being here, because _you're_ here, too. That's what this is all about, remember? Quality time together?"

Slowly, Bobby began to relax, and Mike could see him starting to accept what he was being told as the truth.

"Tomorrow," Mike told him, "we'll start over. No boats, and no nearly falling off cliffs. Okay?"

Bobby smiled finally, relaxing fully on the sofa.

"Okay by me."

"I'll go along with that, too," Elliot added as he came in bearing a large platter that was laden with a range of foods, from potato chips and popcorn to hamburgers and ribs that Bobby had cooked on the barbeque a short while ago. As Elliot set the platter down on the coffee table, Mike leaned across and snagged one of the ribs.

"Now _this_ is a feast," he declared, took a large bite and sighed contentedly. "Good food, plenty of beer, coffee, and no women to spoil it with chick flicks."

"You're lucky Alex and Carolyn aren't here," Bobby told him wryly. "They'd smack you for that one, without a doubt."

Mike flashed him a patented Logan grin.

"That, baby brother, is the prime reason you didn't have to tie me up and throw me in the trunk to get me here. This, gentlemen, is what's known as the art of male bonding."

Elliot raised an eyebrow in amusement.

"What, you mean sitting around eating junk food, getting wasted on cheap beer and watching bad movies?"

"Hold your tongue!" Mike retorted. "We do not, nor have we ever polluted ourselves with cheap beer."

"But the junk food and bad movies…?"

"Regular Sunday night activity," Bobby answered wryly. "Except, Alex is usually with us, and most times we end up watching her choice, which generally turns out to be something romantic… Although, to give her credit, last Sunday she picked _A History of Violence_. That was a pretty good film."

Elliot snorted.

"Oh yeah, it's a great film. I bet Mike got some good action later on, too."

Bobby regarded Elliot quizzically, and the SVU detective grinned widely.

"C'mon, remember the cheerleader scene in the bedroom?"

Bobby's eyebrows shot up, and then he looked back at Mike. The latter had gone a dull shade of red, and was looking everywhere but at his two companions.

"She didn't…" Bobby started to say, and when Mike flashed him an embarrassed grin, he groaned aloud. "Don't say a word. I don't want to know." He shook his head, groaning softly as he realised the image was already firmly imprinted on his over-active imagination. "Great. I'm not going to be able to look at her straight on Monday morning. Again."

"Just pick a damn movie," Mike grumbled, knowing full well that Bobby's embarrassment would likely as not lead to him being in the doghouse with Alex yet again. "And if you put on _Sleepless in Seattle_, I'll shoot you."

"Again, Mikey, no gun," Bobby reminded him as he made his way over to the cabinet that stored a small collection of DVD movies.

"Again, did I say when, smart ass?"

Bobby smirked, and returned his attention to selecting a movie. He didn't particularly feel like one of the brainless action movies that he suspected Mike was in the mood for. Then again, he supposed that Mike was even less in the mood for something thoughtful and provocative. Maybe he'd get away with putting on Russell Crowe's _A Beautiful Mind_ later on, after Mike and Elliot had put away a few more beers each.

Okay, he immediately corrected himself. _A lot more beers_… In the meantime, though…

"How about _Tomb Raider_?" he asked, and Elliot whistled appreciatively.

"Mm, Angelina Jolie in all her semi-naked glory. Good choice!"

"Just don't start picking it to pieces," Mike warned him. Bobby regarded him with a look of feigned injury.

"I know how to keep my mouth shut during a movie, Mike."

Mike grinned over at Elliot, who was looking increasingly bemused by the brothers' behaviour.

"That's because the first time he watched a movie with Alex, she duct-taped his mouth halfway through to shut him up."

Elliot looked to Bobby, expecting a protest, and was more than amused when none was forthcoming. Rather, Bobby had gone an amusing shade of red.

"Made that mistake once," he grumbled, "and once only." He glowered back at Mike. "I can't believe she told you."

Mike laughed and clapped Bobby on the shoulder as he sat back down.

"She used it as an example to warn me off, the first time we watched something together. Don't worry, though. I won't tell anyone."

"You already did, idiot," Bobby growled. He nodded towards Elliot, who held up his hands in a gesture of truce.

"I won't say a word to anyone. I promise."

"C'mon," Mike pled as the movie began. "We've got a good movie, good food… You wanna shut up now?"

"You started it, Mikey," Elliot threw in, laughing when Mike flicked a single piece of popcorn at him.

"You don't have permission yet, _El_."

Elliot only grinned, and returned his attention to the movie.

* * *

_Manhattan SVU_

Don Cragen looked up from an ever-growing mound of paperwork as Fin and Munch walked in.

"Any luck tracking down Elliot?"

"Nada," Munch answered bleakly. "No one knows where he took off to. Not even Kathy, and believe us when we say she is totally pissed over it."

Cragen grimaced. He wasn't going there. Elliot's issues with his ex-wife were his own to sort out.

"What about Blake? Any sign of him other than in Elliot's apartment?"

"He got to Kathy before we did," Fin confirmed. "Posed as a cop, apparently. Kathy said she was suspicious, but it didn't really matter. She could have given him any information even if she'd wanted to. She said he was pissed, but he never hassled her."

"Okay," Cragen murmured. "I want her and kids moved elsewhere until Blake's caught, just in case he decides he can make use of them after all."

Fin and Munch turned to go, but Cragen called them back.

"Hold up a second, fellas. What about Olivia's place? Did you check that out?"

"Yeah," Fin confirmed. "There wasn't a message from Elliot on her machine, so he must've figured on getting back to the city before her. Also, her place hadn't been broken into and trashed like his was."

"So, either Blake knew Olivia wasn't there to begin with," Cragen guessed, "or he wasn't interested in Olivia to begin with."

"That's probably it," Munch soberly. "Don't you remember when we nailed Blake the first time around? He snatch Liv, and used her to lure Elliot, but he never left so much as a bruise on her. It was Elliot he wanted to hurt. Makes sense that he'd go after Elliot again."

Cragen groaned softly, realising the truth in Munch's words.

"Okay, you can't do anymore tonight. Go home, get some sleep and get a fresh start in the morning."

"What about Kathy and the kids?" Fin asked.

"I'll sort that out," Cragen assured them. "You two just go and get some rest. It's going to be a long day tomorrow."

"Ain't that the truth," Fin muttered as he and Munch left reluctantly, identical expressions of anxiety on their faces. Cragen watched them go, and then grimly sat back down and picked up his phone to make the arrangement for Kathy and the children. Yes, tomorrow would be a long day, but it was shaping up to be a long night, too.

* * *

"Okay, I've got to know," Elliot announced suddenly after they'd gone through two movies and more than a few beers. "Who, exactly, is going out with who?"

Mike and Bobby exchanged bemused looks.

"You mean us, Carolyn and Alex?"

"Yeah. I mean, you _know_ what the rumours are."

"Why don't you enlighten us, Elliot?" Bobby asked coolly, and Mike was not so drunk that he didn't catch the warning tone in his brother's voice. He reached across in a surprisingly subtle gesture, and brushed his fingertips against Bobby's arm, drawing his attention long enough to give a slight shake of his head. Bobby relaxed slightly, understanding and accepting what Mike was trying to tell him without words. Elliot didn't mean any harm with his question, and there was no need to be defensive. They had nothing to hide.

Elliot, oblivious to the exchange that had just happened between the brothers, continued to speak.

"Okay, so, the rumour is that Alex is sleeping with you, Bobby, and Carolyn is sleeping with you, Mike. But I know that's not true… be… because I _know_ that Eames has more going for her to have to sleep with you to stay in Major Case…"

Mike shot Bobby a worried glance, but was relieved to see an amused grin light up Bobby's face. Although Elliot's words were lacking somewhat in subtlety, the real meaning was there, and Bobby was thankfully sober enough to understand it.

"She's the senior partner, Elliot," Bobby told him. "She always has been, and she didn't get there by sleeping with me, or anyone else. She got there because she's a good cop, and a great detective."

"You respect her," Elliot said matter-of-factly, and Bobby nodded.

"Yes, I do. Everyone who knows her does. She deserves the respect she gets."

Elliot sighed wistfully.

"Same with Liv."

Bobby and Mike exchanged bemused smirks. They knew _that_ tone only too well.

"Look, if you really want to know for sure, Elliot," Mike told him, I'm going out with Alex. Bobby's dating Carolyn."

Elliot thought that over for a moment before a smirk lit up his features.

"So... If you married Alex, Mike... and Bobby married Carolyn... then they'd be sisters in-law, right?"

Again, Bobby and Mike exchanged rueful looks. That was a scenario that had certainly occurred to both men, but neither had been game enough to say it aloud. In all truth, the idea terrified them both.

"Whoa, Stabler," Mike growled. "Nobody's mentioning the 'M' word."

Elliot chuckled at the vehement response.

"Got commitment issues, Mike?"

Before Mike had a chance to lose his cool, Bobby jumped in quickly to defend him.

"Mike and Alex have only been together for around six months, Elliot. That's a little early to be talking marriage. Now you and Olivia Benson, on the other hand..."

Elliot frowned, bristling noticeably.

"What about us?"

"You and Olivia have been tip-toeing around starting a relationship for how many years now?"

Elliot promptly went red with anger, but Bobby silenced him with his next words.

"Alex and I aren't the only ones who are victims of the rumour mill."

A tense moment passed, and then Elliot finally chuckled and relaxed.

"Okay, point taken. You're one sly son of a bitch, Bobby."

"You ought to see him in the interrogation room," Mike retorted dryly.

"So I hear," Elliot murmured as he drained the last of his beer. A sigh escaped him. "I oughtta haul ass to bed, but this chair is really comfortable all of a sudden."

"It's gonna get cold once the fire dies down," Bobby pointed out, although he felt less than inclined to move himself.

"Ah, screw it," Mike retorted. "Elliot's right. I'm too comfortable to be bothered moving. Bobby, you wanna go grab some extra blankets?"

Bobby rolled his eyes, but didn't object as he got up to do as Mike had asked. He collected three extra blankets and returned to the family room only to stop in amused surprise. Both Elliot and Mike were already asleep. Shaking his head and laughing softly, Bobby draped a blanket first over Mike and then over Elliot before settling back down on the sofa and pulling the last blanket over himself.

Lulled by the warmth that still radiated from the fire, and the soft comfort of the sofa beneath him and the company of friends and family, Bobby slid off to sleep just a few minutes later.

* * *

The front door opening let in a rush of chilly air that effectively doused the remnants of the fire, but none of the three men stirred. Their senses somewhat dulled by the amount of alcohol they'd collectively consumed, all three slept on undisturbed. Footsteps caused the wooden floor to creak slightly, but still they didn't stir.

A shadow passed over Bobby, paused as it fell on Mike before finally moving on to Elliot. The SVU detective did stir then, and the shadow froze. But then he relaxed once more, slipping back into a deep sleep, and the shadow relaxed as well.

It would be easy... _so_ easy, to just do it right here and now. He could take all three of them, and they wouldn't know a thing until it was too late. But, that was not his style. It never had been. He liked to do things with flair, and that didn't mean shivving three drunk cops in the middle of the night.

No, he had a different idea of how he wanted to deal with the great Elliot Stabler, and it definitely included making sure that the cop knew who was responsible for taking his life.

Turning, he set about leaving his carefully planned calling card, so that when the cops woke up in the morning, they would understand just how much trouble they were really in. Then, once they were aware, he would strike.

Grinning cruelly to himself in anticipation of what fun was to come, he slipped out of the cabin, and back out into the black night.

* * *

_tbc..._


	8. The Hunted

A/N: _And finally, the proverbial hits the fan. Now the fun can really begin..._

* * *

The first thing to go through Elliot's mind the next morning as he came slowly back to awareness was the putrid smell that assailed his nostrils. He groaned aloud, and his stomach churned unpleasantly as his mind likened the smell to that of decomp.

_Crap_, he though dimly. _We shouldn't have gone to sleep and left the food out._

With some reluctance, he pried his eyes open, bracing himself in anticipation of what he would see. He guessed from the smell that some animal had gotten in while they slept, and had perhaps defecated in the midst of the leftovers. An animal, he told himself sleepily, that had a very, _very_ bad case of diarrhoea. When he did manage to get his eyes open, though, the sight that met him was far worse than anything he could have anticipated.

The seconds ticked slowly by, and Elliot sat frozen, his voice muted in his throat. Gradually, he became conscious of other sounds around him – the sound of his two companions beginning to stir. Before he could recover from his own shock, and say something to warn them, Mike woke up.

"Damn," Mike groaned. "What in the love of God is that smell? Did some friggin' animal get in…? Fuck!"

His shouted expletive served to startle Bobby back into full awareness who, in turn, uttered a similar expletive.

Sitting on the table, squarely in the middle of the left-over food, was a woman's head. It was well into the advanced stages of decomposition, and emitted a foul stench that had the stomachs of all three men churning.

"I… I think I'm gonna be sick," Mike mumbled, and a moment later he lunged to his feet and fled outside to throw up. Elliot was close behind him. Bobby, however, barely noticed them go. Overcoming his initial shock, he sat forward on the sofa to get a closer look.

He had no way of knowing for certain just how long the unfortunate victim had been dead, except to say that it had been a while, judging by the level of decomp. The most intriguing part, though, were the eyes. Or rather, the lack of them. The head had none. Also – and he supposed it could have been a coincidence, but he doubted it – the head had been placed on the table so that it was directly facing Elliot.

He heard the cabin door open, and looked around as Mike and Elliot came back in. Both men were a little on the pale side, but otherwise seemed all right.

"We have a problem," Bobby stated quietly.

"Thankyou, Captain Obvious," Mike retorted. "What I want to know is where in the hell did it come from? And who left it here? And why?"

"Elliot?" Bobby asked softly, noting the almost sorrowful way that Elliot seemed to be regarding the head. "Do you know something about this?"

Mike turned to look at Elliot, who by then had turned an unappealing shade of grey.

"Her name was Sarah Emerson," he said finally, hoarsely. "She was Darius Blake's first victim."

"Darius Blake?" Bobby echoed with a frown. "The Riverside Rapist?"

"That's the one," Elliot confirmed. "He… He took the eyes of the victims for souvenirs… but we never found Sarah's body. The only evidence we found to prove that she was Blake's first victim were when we found the… the freezer in the attic of his home. That… that was where he kept the eyes."

"Crap," Mike muttered. "So, how did this get here?"

"Blake was convicted," Bobby said, and Elliot nodded in confirmation.

"Fourteen consecutive life sentences, one for each victim. He's never supposed to be released."

"Maybe he had an accomplice," Mike suggested. "But, then… how the fuck did they find us up here?"

"I might have left a note for Olivia," Elliot told them uncomfortably. "I stopped off at her place on my way to meet you guys, and put it in her mail slot. If it is Blake, and he went to Olivia's place, it wouldn't have taken him much to find it. I'm sorry…"

"Don't apologise for doing the sensible thing, and making an effort to let someone know where you went," Bobby told him. "Let's just work out what to do."

"I can tell you what we _won't _be doing," Mike said grimly, "and that's phoning for help. My cell phone is dead. I've got no signal at all."

"None of us will," Bobby said. "And we don't have a satellite phone. We're going to have to drive, at least to the nearest town. But first… Mike, can you find us some cling wrap? We need to preserve this for evidence."

Grimacing, and muttering something under his breath about CSU dirty work and air freshener, Mike disappeared off to the kitchen. Once he'd gone, Bobby looked back at Elliot.

"Care to tell me why you suddenly look terrified?" Bobby asked in a low voice. Any other time, Elliot might have taken offence to the suggestion that he was scared. Now, though, he could only shudder and sink into one of the chairs.

"Blake… He's a nasty piece of work, and I really do mean nasty. He's a genuine sadist. He enjoys inflicting pain on people. When Liv and I first started investigating the killings, it was just rape and murder by stabbing. That was bad enough, but then he escalated. He escalated _fast_. The third victim we found had been physically tortured as well as raped, and it got progressively worse each time."

"And the eyes?" Bobby queried.

"Trophies," Elliot confirmed. "The sick son of a bitch had them all laid out in the freezer in his attack. The first four victims, the eyes were removed post-mortem. But the fifth… by the fifth, he was taking the eyes out _before_ they were dead."

"We heard some of the details over at Major Case," Bobby murmured, "but not about the eyes. Were you getting a lot of people trying to claim responsibility?"

"At least two or three every damn day," Elliot answered. "And the worst part there was that we had to treat each of them seriously, just in case they were the real deal. Goddamn waste of time."

"None of us at Major Case envied SVU for catching that one."

Elliot nodded.

"I heard that a lot."

"So how did you nail him in the end?"

"We set a trap. Liv volunteered to be the bait. Except…"

"It backfired?"

"Yeah. He smelled the trap a mile off, but instead avoiding it, he turned it against us. He snatched Liv, right out from under our noses. God, I just about went insane, not knowing where she was, or what was happening to her."

Bobby nodded in sympathetic understanding, his thoughts going back briefly to the Gage case some months back. He had felt exactly the same way, not knowing where Alex was, or whether she was even still alive. Elliot went on in a subdued tone as he allowed his mind to slip back to unwanted memories.

"Blake held her for nearly two days before sending me a message. It told me where to go if I wanted Liv back, alive and in one piece, and to go alone. I did, but I left a message that I knew the others would find before too long. I met Blake, and he blindfolded me and took me to where he was holding Liv."

"Was she badly hurt?" Bobby asked, and Elliot smiled a very bitter smile.

"She didn't have a scratch on her. He hadn't touched her at all, except to tie her up. Son of a bitch even fed her three times a day. I asked him what he was playing at… Don't get me wrong, I was grateful he hadn't touched her, but I didn't get it, either. Liv matched the profile of the women he preferred. You know, tall, dark and beautiful? Anyway, that was when Blake said he'd decided he wanted something different that time around."

"You?" Bobby inquired, and Elliot answered with a quick nod.

"Yeah." He drew in a long, unsteady breath. "Our guys were only a couple of hours behind us, but god, that was the longest two hours of my life. And… Blake was just getting ready to take my eyes Fin and Munch got there. If they'd been just a minute or two later, I don't think I'd be here now. As it was, I was in the hospital for two and a half weeks after that, and it was a full two months before I was cleared for active duty again."

"Elliot," Bobby said tensely, "if it is Blake here, now…"

Elliot regarded Bobby with a grim, haunted stare.

"If it is him, then we are all in some seriously deep shit."

"Hey, Robert," Mike's voice reached them from the kitchen. "Where the fuck is the cling wrap? I can't find it!"

Elliot sighed and started up.

"I'll go…"

"No," Bobby said in a suddenly tense voice. "Elliot, did you bring your gun with you?"

"No, I didn't. Why?"

"Here…" He pulled a key ring from his pocket, to which were attached four different keys. "This one opens the lock box in the closet in the bedroom you took. There's a gun that I know Deakins keeps in there strictly for emergencies. Go and get it, _now_. Then get your ass outside and find some cover somewhere nearby."

"Bobby…"

"He called me Robert, Elliot. Something's wrong in there. Now go! Do as I tell you, please!"

Elliot tried one last time to argue.

"C'mon, man, don't…"

He grunted as Bobby grabbed him by his shirt collar and shoved him hard in the direction of the downstairs bedroom.

"If what you've said is for real, then you're this guy's prime target. Mike and I will be okay. You just get outside, and stay safe. Go!"

Elliot stared at Bobby for just a moment longer before nodding and hurrying off to do as he'd been instructed. Bobby waited only a moment longer, and then turned and headed slowly for the kitchen, and whatever grim fate awaited him there.

* * *

Bobby knew the instant he walked into the kitchen that Blake was waiting for him behind the door. The knowledge gave him no advantage, though – the instant he was through the door, he felt the cold metal of a shotgun barrel at the back of his head.

"That's very original," Bobby commented wryly. "Hiding behind the door like that."

"It worked, didn't it?" Blake retorted. "Over there, pig. Go join your buddy."

Bobby walked slowly over to stand beside Mike. Blake nodded his approval, and then indicated the door.

"Now, call Elliot."

"I can't do that," Bobby answered in a deceptively calm tone. The first flushes of anger appeared on Blake's face.

"What do you mean, you can't? You call that fucking pig, and get him in here now, or I'm going to put a nice big hole in this other pig's head."

"I can't do that," Bobby repeated patiently, "because I sent Elliot out of the cabin before coming in here."

Blake was silent, staring at Bobby as though he wasn't sure whether to believe him.

"You're lying," he accused finally. "He's here, and you're gonna call him."

Bobby shook his head.

"No, he's not. Go and see for yourself."

"You son of a bitch!" Blake exploded. And, doing exactly what Bobby had counted on him doing, Blake turned his back on them to go after Elliot.

Mike and Bobby moved at the same instant, charging across the kitchen floor. Blake heard them coming and spun around to meet them. The shotgun roared, and Mike's feet skidded under him as the buckshot caught him in the side. He went down with a crash, and Bobby was brought up equally short when Blake swung the weapon around to confront him.

"Fucking pigs," he spat, advancing on Bobby menacingly. For a long moment, the two men stood staring at each other. Then, without warning, Blake lifted the gun and struck Bobby across the temple with it. He collapsed to the floor with a painful thud, stunned beyond response. Blake looked down on them with a hateful sneer.

"I'm going to go get Elliot now, but I'll be back for you two. Do yourselves a favour, and make it easy on yourselves. Stay here, and don't move. Don't make me have to hunt you down."

And then he was gone, leaving the brothers alone.

* * *

Elliot fled to the bedroom without a backward glance, grateful to have a set order to follow. Not that he was incapable of thinking for himself – far from it – but the memories of his last encounter with Blake were enough on their own to cause the reasoning side of his brain to threaten to shut down. The thought of coming face to face with Blake again was more than enough to paralyse him with fear.

He threw open the closet doors and quickly opened the lock box. Sure enough, there was a gun in there, as Bobby had said. He grabbed at the box of cartridges that accompanied the weapon, only to be filled with dismay. The cartridges were only blanks, and would give him no protection against the likes of Blake. Clearly, the weapon was intended only for frightening off animals, and he had no delusions about its ability to frighten off the animal now hunting him and his friends.

Leaving the useless weapon behind, Elliot fled the cabin.

* * *

His first instinct was to go to the car and get it started for a fast get-away as soon as Bobby and Mike got out. Those hopes were crushed as he approached the vehicle to discover all four tires had been slashed.

"Fuck," he whispered, looking around in growing distress. He was trying to decide what to do when the explosive sound of a shotgun being fired shattered the otherwise quiet morning. Heart in his throat, Elliot abandoned all thoughts of the car, and ran for cover.

* * *

"Ah… Shit…"

Mike groaned aloud as a burning pain seared through his side. A glance down at the injury told him it wasn't serious – just enough so to hurt like hell. Grimacing, he turned his attention to his brother, who lay slumped on the floor nearby. There appeared to be no blood where Bobby had been struck, but even from where he lay Mike could see the monstrous welt coming up on the side of Bobby's face.

"Hey, Bobby…" Mike croaked out. "You alive?"

"Unfortunately," Bobby answered with a soft moan. Then, slowly, Bobby's head came up and he looked around blearily.

"Where is he? Where's Blake?"

"Gone… After Elliot," Mike told him. "You think he really did run, like you told him?"

"I hope so."

"Because you know what kind of a cop he is. He wouldn't just take off and leave us here. You _know_ he wouldn't."

"He'd better," Bobby growled, "because Blake doesn't give a damn about us. If he did, he wouldn't have just left us here like this, where we could get away. He came specifically for Elliot, and if Elliot comes back with some warped idea that he's going to save _our _asses, then we might just all be dead men."

* * *

It took Blake less than a minute to discover Bobby had been telling him the truth. He came out into the living area of the cabin, and was just heading towards the bedroom when he saw him. Elliot stood outside, by the car, observing the slashed tires with obvious dismay.

Any other time, Blake would have taken pleasure in the distress of his prey, but he was cold, tired and beyond frustrated. He had anticipated a quick catch and kill – all he really wanted were the SVU detective's eyes, after all. Now, it seemed he was going to have to chase the son of a bitch down.

Damn, he was starting to wish that he had just taken all three of them out in the night, instead of trying to be clever.

Loosing a howl of frustrated rage, as much at himself as at Elliot, Blake took off after his intended victim.

* * *

Elliot bolted into the trees, not daring to look back. He hoped and prayed that Bobby and Mike were okay, but the fact that Blake was hot on his tail now did not bode well. If he could just throw Blake off, he thought wildly, then he'd be able to circle back and go and find his companions. _If_, he reminded himself grimly.

"_Elliot!_"

He heard Blake roar somewhere behind him, and the rage in the man's voice spurred him to move faster still.

"_Elliot! Don't you make me hunt you down!_"

"Fuck you," Elliot rasped under his breath as he plunged on through the thick undergrowth. He couldn't run forever, though, and his knowledge of the area was slender at best. Somehow, he needed to shake the psychopath on his tail so that he could go back for his friends.

And then he saw it. A huge tree, thick with foliage that could provide him with cover. Risking a brief glance back to ensure that Blake had not yet caught up to him, Elliot pulled himself up into the tree, and out of sight.

* * *

Blake crashed through the trees, his focus exclusively on his prey. He was so close, he could almost taste it, and it drove him mad with rage and a sadistic hunger. It was true, when he'd grabbed the female detective that time, he had originally planned on having her, until he saw the way that Elliot had reacted to her disappearance. He'd spent that first twenty-four hours watching Elliot closely, captivated by everything about the detective. By the time he sent Elliot the message, telling him what to do in order to ensure his partner's safe return, Blake had changed his plans. He no longer wanted the woman. He wanted Elliot.

Those few hours he'd had with Elliot had been the best yet of any of his victims, and he still seethed at the interruption that had seen Elliot ripped from his hands right before he'd been able to claim his trophy in the man's brilliant, sapphire eyes. The long hours in prison had been torture, as his mind was consumed with a burning desire to possess what had been so cruelly taken away from him.

When the opportunity to escape had come up, he'd grabbed at it with both hands, and his pursuit of Elliot had paid off on finding the note explaining where he'd gone, with whom, and for how long. The drive to the Catskills had been one of burning expectancy. He couldn't wait to look into the detective's eyes once more, and see the despair when he realised that no one was coming to save him this time.

Blake slowed to a halt, looking around in rapidly increasing frustration. Only moments before, he'd been able to hear Elliot crashing through the trees not too far ahead of him. Now, there was nothing, which told him the detective had gone to ground somewhere. The question was, where?

"C'mon out, Elliot," Blake murmured, knowing full well that he'd get no such cooperation. "It won't hurt. And, if you come out now, I'll let your buddies live. C'mon, be a good boy…"

Almost directly above where Blake was standing right at that moment, Elliot clasped a hand tightly over his own mouth, desperate that not even his breathing should give him away. He could barely make out Blake through the heavy foliage, and so felt reasonably confident that if Blake happened to look up, he wouldn't be able to see him either. But he dared not move for fear that it would give him away.

Slowly, Blake's attention went up, to the tree branches that rose high above his head. It was possible… Hell, it was more than possible that Elliot had gone up a tree, but he had no intention of climbing every one of the fucking things just in case. He was no climber, and he hated trees with a passion. So, if Elliot was up one of them, then he was going to have to catch him another way.

For nearly a minute, Blake considered his options. Then, grinning cruelly, he turned and headed back the way he'd come.

* * *

Elliot watched breathlessly as Blake headed back in the direction from which they'd come, back towards the cabin, and his stomach lurched unpleasantly. Bobby and Mike…

Grimacing, he dropped from his hiding place in the branches, and took off through the trees in the opposite direction to which Blake had gone. He had to get back to the cabin before Blake did. His friends' lives depended on it.

* * *

"Where the fuck are we going?" Mike asked wearily, holding a thick wad of gauze to his side and struggling to keep up with his younger brother as they headed along the dirt road as quickly as they could.

"We need transport," Bobby answered. "Blake didn't walk up here. He must have a car somewhere nearby. We need to find it, and move it so that it's where we can access it quickly once we've found Elliot."

"You assume he has a car," Mike corrected. "What if he has a motorbike?"

"Then one of us gets to go for help while the other two hides," Bobby said, in a tone of voice that told Mike that he was not at all happy with that scenario.

"God, I hope he brought a car," Mike muttered.

They rounded the bend, and came to a halt. Sitting there, completely out of sight from the cabin, was a blue Ford sedan.

"Bobby, you're a fucking genius, and I love you," Mike told him fervently as Bobby strode over to look inside. "I just wanted you to know that."

"Hold that thought, big brother," Bobby muttered. "Because unless you know how to hotwire a car, we won't be going anywhere fast. It doesn't look like Blake left the keys here."

"Move over," Mike urged him, and Bobby slid over to allow Mike to settle in behind the steering wheel. "Give me your knife. And if you ever tell my partner I know how to do this, I'll throttle you."

Bobby handed over his switchblade, and Mike pried open the compartment behind which lay the vehicle's wiring. Within a matter of seconds, the engine had sputtered to life.

"Mikey, I love you," Bobby said with a faint grin as Mike reversed the car carefully back down the narrow road. Mike smirked in response.

"Yeah, yeah. Tell me something I don't know."

* * *

Elliot reached the cabin, and made his way cautiously inside. All was quiet, but he dared not go rushing through in case Blake had beaten him back after all. He dared not even call out for Bobby and Mike. Praying that he wasn't making a serious mistake, Elliot ventured through into the kitchen.

"Shit…"

The expletive came out as barely more than a whisper as Elliot stared around the empty kitchen. The only evidence that either Bobby or Mike had been there was blood spatter against a bench, and a small pool on the floor. One of them, at least, was injured. He could only hope that it wasn't serious.

There seemed to be no evidence that either man had been dragged from the room, meaning that they'd left under their own steam. Whether it had been just the two of them, or if it had been with Blake's gun at their backs, he had no way of knowing.

Silently cursing himself for so willingly following Bobby directive to run, Elliot turned to head back through the house. Before he could go two steps, the kitchen door suddenly swung open, revealing Blake on the other side. He grinned maniacally at Elliot, who quickly reversed, away from the killer.

"Told you not to run," Blake said, brandishing his knife with a flourish. "You only made it worse for yourself, Elliot."

"Fuck you, Blake," Elliot said hoarsely as he moved to put a wide bench between Blake and himself. "You're not getting me, and you're sure as hell not getting my eyes."

"What makes you think you have a choice?"

Elliot glanced around briefly, searching for a weapon, and his assailant laughed cruelly.

"No one's coming to rescue you, this time," Blake taunted him. "If you're looking for your buddies, they're long gone. I heard them in my car on my way back here. They've left you all alone with me, Elliot. Gone, saved their own asses. You obviously don't matter to them."

Elliot felt his stomach drop at Blake's words. As much as he didn't want to believe what he was being told, part of it rang true. He _was_ the interloper here. This had, after all, been meant as a get-away for Bobby and Mike, as brothers, and he'd spoilt it for them by gate-crashing. Was it really so hard to believe that they'd decided to look out for each other, and just leave him to Blake?

"That's right," Blake all but purred. "Let it sink in. They're not coming back for you. It's just you and me, and I'm not letting you get away from me this time."

Elliot's shoulders slumped as he realised how utterly trapped he was. Blake watched as the hope effectively drained from Elliot's face. Then, he motioned to the door with the knife.

"C'mon, Elliot. We're going to go for a little walk."

Feeling sick and completely helpless, Elliot allowed himself to be herded out of the kitchen, and out of the cabin.

* * *

They walked in almost total silence, the only sounds to break it being the cruel chuckles that escaped Blake's lips. Blake steered Elliot onto a nearby walking track, urging him to keep walking until they finally reached a small clearing.

"Here we are," Blake murmured after ordering Elliot to stop. "Not exactly ideal, but it'll do."

Elliot turned around slowly to face his would-be killer, his heart in his throat as he stared down the barrel of the sawed-off shotgun in Darius Blake's hands. He had no idea where Bobby and Mike were. For all he knew, they'd hightailed it out of there just like Blake had said, and he supposed he couldn't blame them. Although, he felt more than a little bitter at the idea that they might have opted to save their own asses, and leave him for dead.

"Listen, Darius…"

"Go ahead, Elliot," Blake sneered at him. "Beg for your miserable, pathetic life. Go on, I _want _you to. I want to hear you beg. Then, when you're done begging, I'm going to have those beautiful blue eyes of yours all for myself." He twirled the knife expertly in the one hand, the sight sending icy chills of panic through the SVU detective. "I'm not going to let anything spoil this moment. I've waited far too long already."

Elliot's stomach lurched as Blake began to advance on him, gun in one hand and knife in the other.

And then, abruptly, everything seemed to happen at once, in one big blur. Before the killer had a chance to follow through on his threats, there was an explosion of movement in the bushes immediately behind Blake, and Mike came out of nowhere, launching himself directly at the killer. The two men went crashing to the ground, and the knife and the gun both went flying from Blake's hands.

At the same moment that Mike tackled Blake, Bobby appeared from a different direction, tackling Elliot and pushing him out of the line of fire.

Elliot gasped in shock as he hit the ground, with Bobby's not-insubstantial bulk landing almost directly on top of him. A moment later Bobby was up, throwing out an apology to Elliot even as he charged to his brother's aid.

Dazed and in more than a little pain, Elliot pushed himself up slowly to watch as Bobby and Mike tackled Blake to the ground and finally managed to pin him to the ground.

"Don't move, asshole," Mike hissed, and then looked over at Elliot.

"Hey, Elliot, you okay?"

"I… I think so," Elliot mumbled. He looked at the two brothers with a disbelieving look on his face. "You came back… I… I figured you'd cleared out… saved yourselves…"

"And leave you here for this mutt?" Mike retorted. "Like hell! We don't abandon cops, Elliot, and we sure as hell don't abandon our friends."

Warm relief flooded through Elliot, and he began to push himself up. He was halfway up when he felt it – the ground beneath him began to soften and give way.

"Elliot, don't move!" Bobby yelled, and he froze in response to the shouted warning. He looked around him, and for the first time he realised exactly where he was – right on the edge of a very long drop.

"Uh... Guys...?" Elliot said, his voice coming out as a hoarse croak.

Ensuring that Mike had Blake under control, Bobby began to crawl back across the ground to where Elliot was. He went as far as he dared, to the edge of where the ground was starting to crumble away, and stretched his hand out to the other man.

"Grab my hand, Elliot. Quickly..."

For a long, terrifying heartbeat, Elliot remained frozen, unable to move his hand. Then, finally, he managed to unlock his brain, and lifted one hand towards Bobby.

"Reach for me," Bobby told him. "If I try to get any closer, the ground's going to collapse. Reach, damn it!"

Sucking in a sharp breath, Elliot steeled himself, and lunged towards Bobby. The sudden movement succeeded in doing what Bobby had been afraid he would do by trying to get closer. The ground shifted, crumbled, and gave way entirely, opening up a huge gap. His fingertips brushed briefly against Bobby's, and Bobby made a frantic grab at him, but to no avail.

Elliot slipped through the gap, panic lighting up his features, and then he was gone.

* * *

He fell forever. At least, it felt like he did. He supposed, later on, that the fall really only lasted a few seconds at the most, but it felt like forever.

Everything seemed to slow to a crawl, like the slow motion footage you often saw in the movies. Somewhere, in the back of his mind, he though heard someone shouting, and it amazed him that he even had time to process that information.

He felt branches whipping against his face, arms, legs, chest; and at some point his mind registered pain as his head struck something hard and unyielding. It didn't knock him out, though he saw stars that blinded him momentarily.

His body hit solid ground almost before he was aware of it, but there was no further pain. Instead, a cold numbness spread rapidly through his body, from the top of his head down to his very toes. He tried to breathe in, only to get a lungful of dirty water that sent him into a violent choking fit, and in the midst of that dirty water, he tasted coppery blood.

His fingers twitched slightly. That was all the movement he could manage, and even that was involuntary.

Distantly, he heard voices shouting again, but the words made no sense to him. It was all just a jumble, and he had no strength to even try to make sense of any of it. All he knew was that cold numbness that was quickly enveloping his entire body.

Darkness closed in, and the last thought that passed through his mind as it overtook him completely was a single name.

_Olivia_…

* * *

_tbc..._


	9. On Their Own

"No!" Bobby yelled. "Elliot!"

But it was too late, and all he could do was to watch him fall. With bile rising in his throat, Bobby watched as Elliot tumbled, his body bouncing sickeningly off the rocks on the way down, before finally hitting the ground far below. And there he lay, still and, for all Bobby knew, dead.

He started to push himself up just as the sound of flesh striking flesh met his ears, followed by a pained groan. He rolled over just in time to see Blake pushing Mike's limp form off him, and snatching up his knife as he got to his feet. He swung the weapon around and brandished it threateningly at Bobby.

"Get up, pig."

Bobby hesitated for just a moment before getting slowly to his feet. The other man was glaring at him with a raw hatred and a clear instability that was terrifying to see.

"I ought to kill you for that. Then again… Maybe I oughtta let you live, so you can have pleasure of telling his girlfriend what happened to him. Tell me, _Bobby_, how are you going to explain this to his girlfriend?"

Though Bobby was careful not to move, or let his eyes shift away from Blake, in his peripheral vision he caught a very welcoming sight – Mike was starting to stir.

"I'll tell her the truth," Bobby answered softly. "We were ambushed by a psychopath…"

He barely got the words out before Blake charged him, screaming with uncontrollable rage.

"You fucking pig, I wanted his eyes!" Blake roared. "I'll never get them now! Maybe I oughtta just take yours instead!"

Bobby barely had the opportunity to brace himself before Blake collided with him, and the two men crashed to the ground in a painful tangle of arms and legs. There was a glint of metal as Blake made to stab the detective, but Bobby saw it coming at the last possible moment and caught hold of Blake's wrist, stopping the downward arc of the knife. For a second that felt more like an eternity, the two men stayed frozen like that – one fighting to take life, and the other fighting to preserve it.

Then, suddenly, Blake grunted in pain, his grip on the knife loosened and then relaxed completely, and he collapsed on top of Bobby, unconscious. When Bobby's vision finally cleared, he looked up to see Mike standing there over the top of them, holding the shotgun with the butt down, after cracking Blake over the head with it.

"You okay?" Mike asked hoarsely as he helped Bobby to roll Blake's deadweight off him.

"I think so," Bobby confirmed. "You?"

"Just a bump or two," Mike answered dismissively. "We've gotta secure this whack-job, so we can go help Elliot."

"We'll have to get him back to the cabin," Bobby mumbled. His head was starting to pound ferociously from the earlier knock he'd taken. "There's rope back there… And handcuffs."

Mike's eyebrows shot up.

"Handcuffs?"

"Not mine. They're Deakins'. He brought them with him by mistake when he and his family came up here the last time, and he forgot to bring them back with him. He asked me to bring them back for him. Apparently he had a hell of a time explaining why he didn't have them to hand in along with his gun and his shield, when he retired."

Mike grunted as they struggled to lift Blake between them.

"Well, that explains the bondage jokes in the men's bathroom on the thirteenth floor."

Even Bobby had to smile, then. As widely respected as Deakins was, that was one thing that he would _never_ live down.

"C'mon," he mumbled as they lifted Blake's unconscious form between them. "Let's get him back to the cabin, and then we can help Elliot."

* * *

"What do we need?" Mike asked once they'd secured Blake with both ropes and handcuffs, and locked him up inside one of the bathrooms.

"Ah… There's an industrial first aid kit and climbing gear in the closet next to the laundry. Go grab it."

"Don't tell me," Mike called back over his shoulder as he went. "Deakins was a boy scout in another life."

"No," Bobby called back, in little mood for banter by then. "Three years ago he came up here with his family, and his youngest daughter took a fall down an embankment. They had to wait five hours for help to reach them. He stocked up on the first aid kit and invested in the climbing equipment after that, in case anything like it ever happened again. He and his family learnt how to use it, too."

"Just tell me that _you_ know how to use this stuff," Mike said as he came back carrying two large bags. Bobby paused, eyeing the bags grimly.

"I've taken the courses," he confirmed. "I just hope it'll be enough."

"What are you doing?" Mike wondered as he watched Bobby filling every water bottle they had.

"We're going to need the water, Mike. It won't be easy, climbing down to where Elliot is. And then, when we get to him, we're going to need to keep all three of us hydrated."

"Until what?" Mike asked tensely. "Until help arrives? You know that's not going to happen, Bobby. We're on our own here. There is _no_ help coming."

Bobby rubbed his hand hard over his face.

"Elliot left a note for Olivia. That's how Blake knew where to find him. Maybe he left a message for someone else in SVU as well. Fin, maybe…"

"So what if he did?" Mike asked. "What would it matter if they know where he is, when we've got no way of letting them know we need help?"

"They must know Blake is on the loose, though," Bobby pointed out. "Cragen would have been notified. They… They'd have to know he'd go after Elliot…"

"Look how long it's been, Bobby," Mike told him softly. "Blake obviously got here some time through the night. If someone else in SVU knew where Elliot had gone, they would have been here by now, with all the bells and whistles. They're not coming, baby brother. They don't know he came with us."

Bobby shut his eyes for a long moment. He knew Mike was right. As much as he hated to admit it, he _knew_ his brother was right.

"Okay. So… we'll be able to get down to Elliot, but I don't know if we'll be able to bring him back up. And, there's no way of knowing how badly he's hurt. He might have gotten lucky, or there could be spinal damage…"

"Or he could be dead," Mike added softly. Bobby shook his head ferociously.

"No. I won't accept that. He's not dead."

"Bobby, he fell at least forty feet…"

"No!" Bobby burst out, the strain of the situation starting to come out in his voice. He focused a hard look on his brother. "If we can survive a building coming down on top of us, then Elliot can survive this. He's going to be all right, Mikey."

Mike nodded slowly, understanding Bobby's need to stay positive.

"You're right," he murmured. "Yeah… You're right. Okay. What else do we need?"

* * *

Five minutes later, they were on their way back to where their friend had fallen. Neither man spoke, each intent on moving as fast as possible.

For his part, Bobby regretted snapping at Mike, but he didn't want to even consider the possibility that Elliot might be dead. It was bad enough that they couldn't just go straight down to where Elliot was, but rather that they had to climb down carefully to avoid the same fate. It was bad enough that they didn't know what they would find when they got down there, or how critically Elliot might be injured. He was _not_ contemplating the likelihood of getting down there to find they were too late.

"Tell me what to do, Bobby," Mike said quietly, seriously, as Bobby began to pull out various pieces of equipment.

"Tie this rope around a tree," Bobby instructed him, handing him a large coil of rope. "No, not one close to the edge. Tie it around the trunk of one of those trees over there. If the ground gives way any more, we don't need a tree coming down on top of all of us."

"Yeah," Mike muttered, "because that would really suck."

Bobby smiled faintly.

"Yeah. It would. Okay… We're going to have to lower ourselves down. I'll go first. Watch carefully, Mike, because that's all the training you're going to get. Then, once I'm at the bottom, you come down after me."

Mike paused. He was aching to make a sarcastic comment to lighten the mood, but now was not the time or the place for it. Instead, he nodded in compliance.

"Okay, Bobby. Lead the way."

* * *

_Manhattan_

"You think Mike's got poison ivy yet?" Alex wondered with a smirk as she and Carolyn sat outside a café with large mugs of fresh coffee. Carolyn groaned.

"God, I hope not. He'll kill Bobby if he ends up with poison ivy."

Alex couldn't help but snicker.

"I know. And I know I shouldn't laugh, but just the thought… God, I wonder if Stabler really knew what he was letting himself in for when he went with them?"

"I doubt it," Carolyn retorted. "But he will by the time they get back."

"You don't have any sympathy for him do you?" Alex asked with a grin, and Carolyn had to smile.

"Actually, I do. I really do like Elliot. He's been a good friend. But if he was dumb enough to accept an invitation, from Mike Logan, of all people, to go up to the mountains… Well, let's just call it self-inflicted punishment."

Alex couldn't help it. She snorted, and then burst in laughter as an image presented once more in her mind's eye of Bobby Goren, Mike Logan and Elliot Stabler trying to survive a weekend together in the wilderness.

"I bet they end up in the lake, at least once," she said in between fits of laughter. Carolyn smirked.

"Only once? My bet's on at least twice."

"What's so funny, ladies?"

Both Alex and Carolyn looked around to see Fin Tutuola and John Munch standing there, eyeing them bemusedly.

"Nothing important," Carolyn answered with a grin. "How's it going, fellas? You want to join us for coffee?"

"We'd love to," Fin answered, "but we're working."

"On a Saturday?" Alex wondered. "That stinks. What on?"

At that, Fin and Munch exchanged glances, and a mutual understanding passed unspoken between them not to burden the women with their worries.

"Just the usual," Munch answered placidly. "Trying to track down some whack job. You having a ladies' day out?"

"Something like that," Alex replied, still grinning. "You sure we can't tempt you to stay? Just for a little while?"

"Thanks, but no," Munch said. "We really need to get moving. You know what it's like."

"Yeah, we do," Carolyn confirmed ruefully. Fin and Munch headed inside to get their coffee, and emerged just a few minutes later laden with coffee and bagels.

"And I thought Twinkies had all the cop's standard dietary requirements," Carolyn retorted cheekily. Munch grinned sardonically at her as they passed.

"Not after ten in the morning. Twinkies are strictly a breakfast food. Didn't you know that, Barek?"

Alex and Carolyn exchanged amused grins, and returned their attention to their own coffees. Fin and Munch were just starting to walk away when Fin hesitated

"We oughtta ask them, man."

Munch frowned.

"Why? Why would they know?"

"Barek. She's friends with Elliot and Olivia. Maybe he called her before he took off."

"If he didn't tell his kids, why would he have told her?" Munch argued. "C'mon, Fin. We're wasting time, here. Let's go."

Fin hesitated for just a moment later before sighing and conceding.

"Okay. Let's move."

* * *

"What was that all about?" Alex wondered softly as she watched Fin and Munch walking away. "Tutuola looked seriously like he wanted to come back."

Carolyn shrugged.

"Who knows? Who cares?" She finished off her coffee, and urged Alex to do the same. "C'mon, hurry up with that. We've got some serious shopping to do!"

Grinning, Alex downed the rest of her coffee, and hurried off with Carolyn, not a care on either of their minds.

* * *

_tbc..._


	10. Saving Elliot

The climb down was an agonisingly slow process. The wall of the embankment was vastly unstable, and more than once Bobby slipped and almost lost his footing. Repeated glances down told him nothing of Elliot's condition, either, although the closer he got the more blood he could see. He wouldn't know until he got all the way down, though, just how bad it really was.

_Please, let him live_.

Bobby was not one for prayer. He was especially not open to trying to make bargains with the God that he had lost faith in long ago. Those words became a mantra, though, until he was actually speaking them aloud by the time his feet hit the safety of the solid ground.

Breathing a heavy sigh of relief, Bobby momentarily abandoned the rope, and hurried over to where Elliot lay. The first thing he took note of were the ragged, and slightly erratic breaths that Elliot was taking. He was still alive, at least, and Bobby was determined to ensure that he stayed that way. He couldn't tell just from looking what bones might be broken. All he was certain of was that there was, undoubtedly, more than one bone broken.

Crouching down to check that Elliot's airway was clear, Bobby pulled a foil blanket out of the first aid kit, and covered the injured man with it. He then turned his attention back to his brother.

"Okay, Mikey," he called out. "C'mon down."

Where he waited at the top, Mike grimaced at Bobby's choice of words.

"This ain't no game show, baby brother," he muttered, but only nodded his head in response and gave the thumbs-up to Bobby before beginning his descent.

* * *

Bobby found himself switching his attention rapidly back and forth between Mike as he climbed down with the remainder of the gear on his back, and Elliot where he lay under the foil blanket. It hadn't escaped his notice that Elliot lay in a small pool of dirty water, which was obviously going to minimise the effectiveness of the blanket. However, with no way to know whether Elliot had suffered any degree of spinal damage, Bobby dared not try to move him out of the water, and onto dry ground.

A strange yelping sound caused him to look up, and he winced at the sight of his brother hanging precariously in mid-air for a heart-stopping moment. Then, Mike found his footing again and slowly continued his descent.

It was nearly another ten minutes before Mike – pale and perspiring, but otherwise intact – landed on solid ground next to Bobby.

"You okay?" Bobby asked as he helped Mike to remove the gear from his back.

"I think that little climb took about five years off my life," Mike muttered. "But yeah, other than that, I'm good." He swung around, as though suddenly remembering the reason for their climb. "Is he…?"

"Alive," Bobby confirmed as they both when to Elliot's prone form. "He doesn't seem to be having too much trouble breathing at the moment, but I haven't been able to wake him up, either. I think he took a couple of bad hits to the head on the way down."

"Not to mention when his head hit the ground," Mike added grimly. Bobby dropped into a crouch beside Elliot, checking him once more.

"We can't risk trying to move him until he wakes up," Bobby said. "I'm going to collect some firewood, and try to make a fire. We could be here for a while, and it's going to get very cold, very quickly."

"What if he doesn't wake up?" Mike asked softly, hating to consider the possibility, but knowing it was necessary.

"He will," Bobby answered firmly. "Positive, remember?"

Mike watched Bobby go, and then turned his attention back to Elliot.

"Elliot," he said in a low voice as he leaned down, "I know you can hear me. You've gotta wake up, pal, so we can all get the hell off this friggin' mountain." He paused, and then added shakily, "Just show us you're okay. _Please_, show us you're okay…"

Except, he wasn't, and Mike knew it.

* * *

Bobby returned five minutes later with a respectable amount of wood in his arms.

"You really think we could be out here all night?" Mike asked, clearly unhappy at the possibility.

"Maybe," Bobby murmured. "Ideally, I'd love to be able to get Elliot onto a stretcher, get him back up to Blake's car and get him off this mountain."

"How are we supposed to get him back up there?" Mike wondered, looking at the precipice that towered above them. "There's no way we can carry him up _that_."

"There's a path," Bobby said absently as he set about getting a fire going. He was so busy concentrating on that task that he didn't notice the incredulous stare that Mike was giving him.

"A path?" Mike echoed finally. "We just risked our necks climbing down here, and _now_ you tell me there's a path? Bobby, so help me…"

Bobby did look up, then, and at least had the grace to look apologetic.

"I'm sorry, Mike, but we needed to get down here to Elliot as quickly as possible, and climbing down was the quickest way. The path would have been safer, sure, but it also would have taken us at least an hour and a half to get down here, if not longer."

Mike frowned in visible irritation, but that was something he could not argue with. Bobby was right – they had needed to get down to Elliot as fast as they could.

"So, what do we do now?" Mike asked resignedly. Bobby sighed softly. He was tired, cold, and his head was hurting badly where Blake had hit him with the gun. He wished more than anything that he could just shut his eyes and go to sleep, but he also knew that Mike was right. He _was_ concussed and, all other current issues aside, sleep was not a luxury that he could afford himself.

"I'll get a fire going," he said finally, "and then I guess we wait."

* * *

"If I say we should have done something differently, would you be likely to hit me for it?"

Slowly, Bobby raised his eyes to meet Mike's gaze. He thought he saw Mike wincing in sympathy as their eyes met, but chose to disregard it. He knew damn well that he didn't look good. His headache was only getting worse, but there was precious little he could do about it. As far as he was concerned, though, Elliot took top priority. His headache was a trivial concern by comparison.

"What should we have done differently, Mike?"

Deciding he was far enough away if Bobby decided to try and throttle him, Mike went ahead and voiced his thoughts.

"I was just thinking… one of us should have just taken Blake's car, and driven to the nearest town. At least then we would have known for sure that help was coming."

Rather than the scathing retort that Mike had anticipated, he was quietly concerned when Bobby looked away in defeated silence. He hesitated, and then spoke tentatively.

"Bobby…?"

"You're right," Bobby said softly. "I… I screwed up, Mike. We didn't both need to come down here. If you'd taken Blake's car, you could have raised the alarm by now. I made a bad call, and Elliot might die because of it. I… I may have killed him, Mike. I might just as well have put a gun to his head, and pulled the trigger myself. I killed him…"

Bewildered, and a little frightened by Bobby's self-admonishment, Mike moved around to sit beside him.

"Hey, take it easy on yourself, Bobby. You were focused on reaching Elliot, and there's nothing wrong with that. I never thought about it either until now, so don't you go beating yourself up over it. You're not omniscient, baby brother. You can't be expected to think of every detail, especially when you're concussed."

Bobby regarded him with a quizzical gaze, and Mike gave a lopsided shrug.

"I can see it clear as day in your face, pal. You are seriously concussed."

Instead of responding, Bobby looked away, back to where Elliot lay. Mike tried again, anxious to break through the wall that his brother was starting to build up around himself.

"C'mon, Bobby, don't do this, not now. Don't shut down on me. If you want to have a guilt trip, at least save it until we're out of this mess. Hell, I'll even join you! 'Cause God knows, none of this would have happened if I hadn't been so damned generous and invite Elliot in the first place. But right now, I need you here, pal. Not wallowing in your own misery."

Slowly, Bobby looked back around at Mike, and the two men stared at each other for the longest while. Then, finally, Bobby sighed, and Mike knew that he'd gotten through to him.

"Sorry," Bobby murmured tiredly. "You're right."

Mike grunted.

"Twice in a row. That's gotta be a record."

Bobby chuckled softly, despite their bleak situation, but before he could vocalise a reply, a low moan broke the quiet and startled them both.

"Was that…?" Mike started to ask in astonishment, but Bobby was already moving.

"Elliot?" he asked anxiously as he crouched down beside the injured detective. "Can you hear me? C'mon, show us you're still with us."

There was another moan, this time more distinctive. Elliot had definitely responded to Bobby's voice.

"Thank God," Mike muttered, but Bobby shook his head.

"Hold on to that thought." He then returned his attention to his injured friend. "Elliot, can you open your eyes?"

There was yet another moan in answer to Bobby's request. Shifting around, Mike lowered himself to the damp ground so that he was lying alongside Elliot's prone form.

"C'mon, Elliot. You've gotta wake up. Wake up, Elliot!"

"'_m'wake_…" came the weak, but audible reply. A moment later, Elliot sobbed aloud as pain washed over him in a nauseating wave.

"Easy," Bobby murmured. "Try and stay still. There's going to be a lot of pain hit you all at once."

_No shit_… Elliot though with an incredulity that he was incapable of voicing.

"Do you remember what happened?" Mike asked, and Elliot suddenly went quiet as he struggled to remember. He remembered running… hiding in the trees… from what? His breath, already ragged and shallow, caught painfully in his throat. Not what, but _who_. Blake… He'd been running from Darius Blake.

And then, the rest of his memories came back with a vengeance. He remembered returning to the cabin with the intention of trying to help Bobby and Mike, only to be ambushed by Blake. He recalled the frightening walk into the woods, with Blake's knife at his back. He remembered the stark fear of watching Blake advance on him with very clear intent.

Then… Mike and Bobby, appearing seemingly out of nowhere to help him, taking Blake down. He remembered a short-lived relief that had been rapidly replaced by terror when he realised the new danger he was in… and falling. He remembered falling…

Gasping aloud, Elliot's entire body convulsed violently as panic took hold, and he instinctively tried to push himself up off the ground.

"Hey, no, don't do that!" Mike burst out as he and Bobby tried to hold Elliot still. "Damn it, Elliot, you're gonna hurt yourself even worse!"

But Elliot was having none of it. He began to thrash wildly, breaking free of Mike and Bobby's hands and rolling over onto his back. A moment later, a scream of pain tore from his lips, through the otherwise quiet atmosphere, as the movement caused his already badly fractured right arm to snap like a twig.

"Ah, crap, his arm's busted," Mike groaned, his stomach rolling unpleasantly at the sight of the very unnatural bend that was now apparent in Elliot's arm.

"I think his right leg is broken, too," Bobby said grimly. "And most of his ribs… But on the bright side, there doesn't appear to be any spinal damage. I don't know a whole lot about spinal injuries, but I'm pretty sure he wouldn't have been able to move very much if he did have an injury like that."

"So what are you saying?" Mike asked as he tried to keep Elliot still by holding his shoulders down as firmly as he dared.

"I think we should be able to get him onto the stretcher, and carry him back up to the cabin."

Mike sighed with relief at that.

"That's what I wanted to hear. You want me to get it out?"

"Not yet," Bobby answered. "I want to see if we can get some fluids into him, and I want to try getting that arm into some sort of a splint. It'll hurt him like hell, but it'll minimise the risk of permanent damage to his arm. Can you pass me that water bottle over there, Mikey? And then see if you can find a straight piece of wood that we can use for a splint?"

Mike handed the water bottle to Bobby without protest. He did not need to be a medical genius to see that his younger brother was slowly succumbing to the effects of his concussion. His face had turned the colour of ash, he was sweating heavily, and his words were forced and awkward. He got slowly to his feet, not exactly feeling too sprightly himself, and started to walk away. He'd gone just a few steps, and then stopped and looked back.

"Hey, Bobby… You think we're even capable of having time together where no one gets hurt?"

The pain that registered across Bobby's face was enough to make Mike want to sew his own lips shut.

"I'll find something we can use for a splint," he murmured, and headed off with his shoulders slumped. Bobby watched him go, and then looked back to Elliot. The SVU detective seemed to have found some degree of focus, and was watching Bobby with eyes that were bright with pain.

"Don't worry," Bobby told him quietly, though he was unsure whether Elliot was even able to comprehend his words. "We're going to get you out of here. You're going to be okay, Elliot."

Elliot drew in a shaky, shallow breath, followed by a visibly painful cough. To Bobby's quiet relief, though, no fresh blood appeared in Elliot's mouth, or on his lips. That at least suggested that neither of his lungs had been punctured, although Bobby was baffled as to how he could possibly have avoided it. Grateful, but baffled all the same.

"Listen, Elliot," Bobby told him. "When Mike comes back, we're going to put your arm in a splint. It's going to hurt a lot, but we have to do it. Do you understand?"

Elliot shut his eyes briefly, struggling to find the strength to respond. He hurt so badly, all over, that right then it was a struggle to even breath, let alone talk.

"_G_…_ got it_," he whispered finally. "_H_…_ hurt_…_ a l_…_ lot_…"

Bobby sighed softly, and turned away to grab a fresh wad of gauze from the first-aid kit.

"Yeah," he murmured. "Hurt, a lot."

"_B_… _Bl_… _k_…"

Even garbled as that had come out, Bobby still had no trouble understanding him.

"Blake's secure. Mike and I got him, Elliot. Don't worry about him. You just stay as calm as you can, and let me and Mike take care of you, okay?"

Elliot shuddered once, and slumped back on the ground, finally losing his tenuous grip on reality, slipping into a pain-induced haze. He wasn't unconscious, Bobby noted. His mind had just slipped temporarily beyond reach, and perhaps that wasn't such a bad thing. Wherever he was right at that moment, Bobby thought, at least he was beyond fear and pain.

* * *

_tbc..._


	11. Remembering

_A/N: This chapter is rated 'M', for violence, language, and more violence. Due to more than one person asking for a description of what Elliot went through with Blake the first time, here it is. The italics are Elliot's memories. Enjoy..._

* * *

_SVU Headquarters  
Manhattan_

Cragen never saw her coming. He heard the ruckus in the bullpen, but before he had so much as a chance to get up from behind his desk, the door of his office was already being thrown open, and a very angry looking woman stormed in.

"Olivia…" Cragen croaked out as she strode forward and slapped her hands down on the desktop.

"Where is he?"

Despite all that had happened in the last twenty-four hours, Cragen drew a complete blank.

"Where is who…?"

Olivia's expression turned downright dark.

"Where is Elliot?"

Cragen hesitated, staring at her in visible confusion before shaking himself back to reality and speaking incredulously.

"Olivia? Why aren't you still in New Jersey?"

"You called me, and told me that Darius Blake escaped from prison, remember?" Olivia snapped. "Do you really think I'd stay hidden away in another state with that lunatic on the loose?"

The captain started to protest, but Olivia cut him off heatedly.

"Don't even think about saying I'm in danger. You ought to know damned well from the last time that Blake doesn't have any interest in me. It's Elliot that he was after the last time, and it'll be Elliot that he's after now. Now please tell me that you've got Elliot in protective custody?"

Cragen let his breath out in a frustrated rush.

"Olivia, the truth is, we don't know where Elliot is."

She stood frozen, leaning across the desk and staring at Cragen in growing dismay. When she did eventually bring herself to speak, though her voice was steady and radiated calm, her eyes told a completely different story.

"What do you mean, you don't know where he is?"

With another sigh, Cragen explained how Munch and Fin had found Elliot's apartment thoroughly trashed, and how there was no indication of where he had disappeared to. The only indications they had that told them Elliot was not yet in Blake's hands was the extent to which Elliot's apartment had been trashed, and the fact that Blake had risked going to Kathy Stabler's home to ask for Elliot's whereabouts.

Olivia listened to all of this in silence, looking paler by the minute.

"We have to find him, Captain. Blake… What he did to Elliot the last time…"

"I know," Cragen assured her gently. "Believe me, Olivia, I know, and we are doing everything we can to find him."

She regarded him with a dark expression that held precious little hope.

"When did Blake escape?"

"Around twenty-four hours ago," Cragen admitted uncomfortably. Olivia nodded, barely concealing a shudder.

"He might already have Elliot, Captain."

"He might not," Cragen countered gently. "He might not have anymore idea where Elliot is than we do."

"Did Fin and Munch check my mail box at my place?" she asked suddenly, and Cragen was momentarily caught off-guard by the abrupt shift in the conversation.

"Well… Yes. It was empty. Why?"

"Because if Elliot had decided to go somewhere after all, he would have left a note for me in my mailbox."

"Olivia, you'd already left for New Jersey…"

"He would have done it anyway, Captain!" Olivia burst out. "Elliot would have left a note in there telling me where he'd gone, and all Blake would have had to do was look inside, and he would have found it."

Cragen shut his eyes, suddenly feeling sick. He had been clinging to the slim hope that wherever Elliot was, it was beyond Blake's reach. But if what Olivia was telling him was for real, then Blake already knew, and he had a terrifyingly huge head-start on them all. And there was not a damned thing they could do about it.

* * *

Elliot moaned aloud, his sleep disturbed by terrifying images from his past. Bobby glanced up at him in concern for a brief moment before returning his attention to putting together the stretcher from the rescue gear. It was a little more complicated than it appeared to be and, truth be told, he had never been one to strictly follow instructions on paper, and it didn't help any that his head felt like someone was operating a jackhammer inside of it.

Consequently, he'd had to pull the stretcher apart twice now. This time, he was reading the instructions as he went, though with not much more success. Elliot moaned again, and Bobby spared him another worried glance, concerned that perhaps he was sinking into some sort of mild delirium, but in the end there was little more he could do than just sit and wait.

* * *

_Elliot sat in his car, heart in his throat. What he was doing was about as far removed from official procedure as it was possible to get, and he knew he was going to get his ass kicked for it later on, but he had no choice. At least, that was going to be his defence later on, when IAB, the DA's office and his CO all tried to hang him out to dry. He had no choice, and his partner's life depended on him complying with Blake's insane demands._

_Three days. It had been three days now since Blake had snatched Olivia right in the middle of a sting operation that had gone horribly, horribly wrong. For three days there had been no word, no clues and no viable leads. Blake had gone to ground with Olivia, and apparently had no intentions of surfacing_..._ until now._

_Less than an hour ago, just after he'd arrived at SVU headquarters, there had been a call to his cell phone, from an unidentified number. It was Blake, and he had been very precise and extremely firm in his demands. If he wanted Liv back alive, he had to be at a certain location in Queens in an hour, and he had to be __**alone**__. If he showed up with back-up, Liv was dead._

_He rubbed a hand over his face, vaguely aware of the sweat that beaded his forehead and face. After getting that call, he had quickly scribbled a note and slipped it into Fin's locker, explaining his actions and telling him where he'd gone in the hope that his colleagues would not be too far behind him._

_Of course, he knew he was taking a deadly risk, and he was under no illusions that Blake would just let them both go. The sick son of a bitch wanted something, but right at the moment Elliot just could not see past his fear for Olivia's safety, to know what that something was. That fear clouded his mind and, if he was completely honest with himself, his judgement as well. But Olivia's safety was paramount to him, and he dared do nothing that he perceived as putting her at further risk._

_All he could hope was that Blake would slip up somehow. One chance was all he needed, and he would take Blake down… but first he needed Blake to take him to Olivia. He needed to see her with his own eyes, and know she was alive, before he risked anything at all._

_The passenger door suddenly opened, and Darius Blake slid into the seat, holding the biggest knife that Elliot had ever seen, and wearing a disturbed grin that left the detective feeling starkly afraid._

"_Hello, Elliot," Blake whispered, and it was with a chill that Elliot noted the way Blake's eyes swept up and down his body._

"_Where is she?" he demanded, and was quietly disturbed to find his voice was trembling. Blake's grin widened._

"_Relax, Elliot. I'm gonna take you to her, just like I promised. You just drive."_

"_Where?"_

"_I'll tell you when to turn. You know how to follow directions, don't you? Sure you do. And here's your first one. Turn on the engine, and drive."_

* * *

_Blake led him on a not so merry drive all around Queens in what Elliot supposed was an attempt to disorient him, before finally directing him to pull up in front of a disturbingly ordinary looking house, in a sparsely populated neighbourhood._

_To Elliot's growing concern, Blake made no effort to conceal the car from sight, but rather had him leave it out on the street, in full view. To Elliot's way of thinking, that suggested very much that Blake didn't give a damn who saw – he was either that confident in his ability to do what he was planning quickly, or he was arrogant enough to believe that he simply wouldn't be caught. Whichever it was, it didn't bode well for him or for Olivia._

_With the tip of the knife poking between his shoulder blades, Elliot reluctantly allowed himself to be herded inside._

_He fully expected to be take downstairs into a dank basement, or upstairs to a musty, dark attic, but it seemed that Blake was determined to shatter all of his preconceptions. He found himself herded into a large room that he suspected might have been used as a family room by a previous occupant. Now, though, there were only two pieces of furniture to be seen – two sturdy wooden chairs, one of which was occupied by Olivia._

"_Liv," Elliot whispered, both dismayed and relieved. By all appearances, she seemed to be unharmed; just visibly exhausted, and very frightened. He started forward, intending to go to her, only to be brought up short when Blake slipped the blade of the knife around under his chin, and held it to his throat._

"_Not so fast, Elliot. I told you I'd bring you to her, but I never said you could touch. Now, have a seat."_

_Elliot hesitated, his eyes flickering from the vacant seat to Liv, searching desperately for a way out for the both. Any thoughts or ideas he'd had ended abruptly in a howl of pain as Blake dragged the knife across Elliot's left shoulder, creating a deep, gouging cut._

"_Sit!" Blake roared, shoving Elliot roughly to the empty chair. Then, in a softer voice, "You don't want to make this harder than it has to be."_

_Elliot sat, his heart in his throat and his stomach churning. Blake disappeared from his line of sight, but he had no chance to move, or even think, for seconds later his arms were wrenched painfully behind his back, and he felt the cold steel of his own handcuffs as Blake closed them tightly around his wrists. Blake then reappeared in front of him, grinning maniacally._

"_Now, did you have anything to say before I start?"_

"_What the __**fuck**__ do you want?" Elliot burst out, struggling to keep his fear and panic in check. Blake laughed delightedly, thrilled by the raw fear that his prey was experiencing. He leant in close, so that they were only inches apart, before speaking in a harsh whisper._

"_I want __**you**__, Elliot."_

_Elliot looked past Blake to Olivia, took in her saucer-wide eyes, and knew the revelation was as much of a shock to her as it was to him. His eyes went back to Blake, and his stomach dropped at the leering way that Blake was eyeing him thoroughly up and down._

_His memories rolled back over the last two months, to Blake's victims, and the brutal way they had all been sexually assaulted and raped. Then, his gaze focused on Blake once more, and on his lecherous grin, and his blood ran cold._

No_, he thought in growing panic, _please no. Not that…

"_We're gonna put on a real show for your girlfriend, Elliot," Blake whispered into his ear. "She'll like that. Don't you think she'll like that?"_

"_Y… You crazy bastard," Elliot gasped, cringing away as Blake stroked first one cheek, and then the other, with the tip of his blade._

"_Maybe I am crazy," Blake conceded, "but I'm the one with the power now, and that's all that matters. Doesn't it, Elliot?"_

_And then, for the next few minutes, Elliot could only sit stiffly in fear as Blake systematically sliced away every item of clothing that he wore. By the time he'd finished, Elliot was completely naked, left with no so much as his under-shorts to retain his dignity. And all the while, Blake talked with a nauseating tone of longing in his voice._

"_I've been watching you, Elliot. For the last three days, I've been watching you so closely, and you never had a clue that I was there. You know, when I took your pretty girlfriend here, I thought she was the one that I wanted, but I was so, __**so**__ wrong. I watched you to see how you'd react, and then I couldn't stop watching. You fascinated me, Elliot. So strong, yet so vulnerable_…_ And those eyes. I had to have those eyes." He licked his lips, as though in sick anticipation. "Although, don't kid yourself that I wouldn't have had your precious Olivia if I couldn't have you, because I would have. But I wanted you, and now I have you. You're mine, Elliot. All mine."_

_Again, Blake disappeared from sight, this time leaving the room completely. _

"_Elliot…"_

_He couldn't bring himself to meet Olivia's gaze when she finally spoke, her voice sounding hoarse and sore. Here he was, naked and vulnerable in front of her_… _It was hard for him to imagine how it could possibly be any worse. _

_Blake returned, with two or three lengths of rope, and he began to crouch down in front of Elliot with them in hand. Elliot took the slim opportunity, and kicked Blake hard in the face, feeling a grim satisfaction as he felt the other man's nose crunching and breaking beneath the bare sole of his foot. _

_Blake fell over backwards, landing on his ass as he howled more out of rage at Elliot's defiance than in pain. He prodded gingerly at his nose, whimpering softly before looking back up at Elliot in open fury._

"_That's going to cost you," he snarled, and snatched up the knife from where he'd dropped it. _

_Elliot could only watch helplessly as Blake grabbed his right leg by the ankle, and lifted the foot into the air._

"_I've heard that a cut in the right place can cripple a man," Blake said, grinning with sadistic pleasure at the fear that lit up Elliot's eyes. He paused for a long moment before going on. "I don't know how to do that. I wish I did, but I ain't a fuckin' doctor." He paused again, letting Elliot experience some degree of relief before speaking once more. "All the same, I bet this is gonna fuckin' hurt."_

_And with that, he drove the blade of the knife into Elliot's calf muscle and dragged it down, almost to his ankle._

_It wasn't especially clear who screamed the loudest – Elliot or Olivia. All they knew was that the sound seemed to only egg Blake on, and he was giggling insanely as he repeated the act on Elliot's left leg. When he was done, he looked up at Elliot's ashen features, and into his pain-filled eyes. Blake's evil smile widened. Elliot's beautiful, perfect sapphire eyes_…

"_Did you really think I was gonna rape you, Elliot?" he asked softly. "Is that what you thought? Well, I guess it's your lucky day, Detective, 'cause I don't do men. Don't get me wrong. I'm sure you'd make some guy __**really**__ happy, but it ain't gonna be me. Not in __**that**__ way. No, I've got other plans for you." Blake twirled the knife in front of Elliot's face, watching the detective's eyes dilate with fear and pain. "Now it's __**your **turn to be the victim."_

* * *

_Two hours later, Elliot was in more pain than he had ever imagined was possible. In addition to his legs, Blake had taken his precious knife to his arms, chest, back, buttocks, abdomen_…_ Initially, the only area of his body that remained untouched was his face. Blake seemed to fancy himself as an artist, carving out distinct patterns on Elliot's chest and back in particular. Especially cruel was the bag of salt that Blake kept with him, layering it liberally onto each new wound 'to preserve his work'._

_At one point, in sheer desperation, Elliot head-butted Blake as the killer moved around in front of him, striking hard enough to send Blake reeling backwards. But then, Blake sliced the blade along the side of Elliot's head, just above his left ear, leaving a long, laceration and threatening to scalp him if he tried such a move again._

_At some stage, Elliot managed to focus beyond Blake, on his distraught partner, but there was nothing he could do to reassure her. All he knew was pain, and that pain found a voice in the strangled screams that tore from his throat as Blake carved into him with sick enthusiasm._

_After two hours, Elliot's screams of pain had been reduced to low, pitiful, gurgling moans. When Blake finally stepped back to survey his handiwork, Elliot was barely even aware of it. He was barely aware when Blake left the room, muttering something about needing a clean knife so as not to damage his prize. He was barely aware when Olivia tried desperately to get his attention, and he was barely aware when Blake walked back in, his knife clean of blood, and gleaming and sharp._

_When Blake advanced on him, new intent written all over his face and radiating from his body language, Elliot was suddenly aware again. All of a sudden, he knew he was about to suffer the same horrendous end as Blake's previous victims, with his eyes being cut right out of his head, leaving him to either bleed out, or die from shock. _

_His mouth, already dry and bloodied, opened to voice a scream that was never going to make it past his lips. Blake laughed harshly, pausing in front of his intended victim, and turning the blade over and over in his hand._

"_You've been my best work, Elliot," he told him gutturally, and Elliot was both nauseated and horrified to realise that Blake was sporting a raging hard-on, and he knew then that once he was dead, it would be Olivia's turn next. His surrendering to Blake had not saved her, but merely subjected her to the torment of watching him being tortured and murdered before she suffered the same fate._

_He shut his eyes, not to block out Blake's image but to block out Olivia's. A moment later, Blake's fingers pried his left eyelid open._

"_Gotta keep 'em open, Elliot," Blake muttered with a frown of concentration. "You wouldn't want me to cut wrong, and damage them. That wouldn't be a good thing at all."_

_He saw the blade coming towards him, the sharpened point descending towards his eyeball, and he braced himself for what he knew was going to be excruciating agony_…

_And then, suddenly, Blake was gone, dragged away from him by an unknown entity and howling in rage and indignation at the interruption. Briefly, Elliot wondered it Olivia had somehow broken free. But no, she was still tied to the other chair. _

_A face descended into his line of sight. Not Blake's, but someone else's. Fin_…

_Voices spoke to him, uttering words that made no sense in his traumatised mind. He was vaguely aware of his wrists being released from the cuffs, and being lifted gently from the chair and laid out onto an ambulance gurney, and being covered with a crisp white sheet. For a crazy moment, he thought he was dead, but no. They left his face uncovered, so he was, indeed, still alive._

_He lost consciousness completely in the ambulance somewhere between Blake's house of horrors and the hospital, and would not regain consciousness for another five days. He was to be hospitalised for two and half weeks in total – it would have been longer, but for his determination not to stay beyond what he absolutely had to – and it was another two months after that before he was cleared physically, mentally and emotionally to return to active duty. _

_It was to be far, far longer, though, before he could go to sleep, or even just relax and close his eyes, without seeing Darius Blake hovering over him with that knife_…

* * *

When Elliot's low, distressed moans erupted into hysterical screams, Bobby abandoned the newly-constructed stretcher and scrambled over to where Elliot lay, thrashing on the ground as much as his battered body would allow. Talking proved pointless – wherever Elliot's mind was right then, it was beyond verbal reassurances.

Grimacing, and anxious to keep Elliot from injuring himself worse than he already was, Bobby carefully straddled the other man's broken and battered body in an effort to hold him down without causing more pain and discomfort than was necessary.

* * *

Mike heard Elliot's screams and, hoping to God that nothing more had gone wrong, abandoned his search for suitable sticks that could be used as a brace and hurried back to where Bobby waited with their injured friend.

* * *

Slowly, with more than a little difficulty, Elliot forced his eyes open. As his vision struggled to focus, he became aware of someone crouching over the top of him. Someone big…

Panic rose in his gut with frightening speed, and one name lurched into his confused mind. Darius Blake…

Desperate to save himself from what he perceived to be another assault, Elliot reached out weakly with his left hand, searching for something he could use as a weapon. After a moment, his hand closed over a fist-sized rock.

* * *

Mike strode back into the clearing, and froze, his eyes going wide as he took in the scene before him. Bobby was crouching over Elliot, hands pressed gently to the other man's shoulders and telling him loudly that he was safe, and to stop struggling. And while Elliot was apparently still incapable of a verbal reply, he had found another way to respond. In his left hand, there was a rock at least the size of a baseball, and he was slowly lifting it off the ground.

Realising what was about to happen, Mike broke his paralysis, and charged forward, shouting a warning as he ran.

"Bobby, look out!"

* * *

Bobby heard Mike's bellowed warning, and his head whipped from side to side as he first took in his brother's panicked expression and then back to Elliot. He caught sight of movement in his peripheral vision and started to turn his head, but was a split second too late.

The rock slammed into the side of his head and Bobby's vision erupted in bright lights and stars. Pain exploded in his skull as he felt something give way under the violent blow, and he collapsed sideways to the ground. Dimly he was aware of Mike leaning over the top of him, saying something, but he was beyond comprehending anything.

The last thing his mind registered was the raw fear in his brother's eyes, and then everything faded to black.

* * *

_tbc..._


	12. No Way Out

Mike skidded to his knees beside Bobby, searching desperately for some sign that his brother was okay. It didn't take long for him to realise that he was anything but. Blood was already free-flowing again from the spot where he'd been struck – the very same spot, Mike realised with dismay, where Blake had hit him earlier.

Struggling against a very powerful desire to panic, Mike ran the tips of his fingers lightly over Bobby's temple. He was not entirely sure of what he was looking for, except for some sort of reassurance that there was no serious damage done. His fingers paused as he felt something unnatural – a very slight, almost indistinguishable indentation beneath the flesh.

"Ah, crap," Mike moaned. "No… Please, no… C'mon, Bobby, don't you do this to me! C'mon, wake up!"

Except, Bobby was not likely to wake up anytime soon, and he knew it. Stricken, he looked over at Elliot, who appeared to be semi-conscious, and trapped within some sort of delirium. Leaving Bobby for the moment, Mike turned his attention to Elliot.

"Elliot? Settle down, buddy. It's me, Mikey. C'mon, pal, quit fighting. Blake isn't here. Snap out of it!"

Elliot's eyes snapped wide open as Mike's bellowed words cut through his delirium, and drew him back to reality with a jolt. For a few seconds, his eyes were wild with panic. But then, as his vision slowly focused on Mike, the panic faded to make way for confusion, and a fresh wave of pain.

He groaned aloud as his entire body was wracked with pain, and it took nearly a minute before he was able to find his voice.

"_M_… _k_…"

"Yeah, pal, it's me," Mike confirmed, struggling to keep his voice even. Elliot groaned again, and coughed painfully. Grabbing one of the water bottles, Mike held it up to Elliot's lips, and allowed just a little to trickle into his mouth.

"Th… Thanks," Elliot whispered, his voice gaining a fraction of strength, and his eyes finally showing some clarity and understanding.

"How're you feeling?" Mike asked, and Elliot shuddered violently.

"Like a… a pancake…"

A soft, bitter chuckle escaped Mike's lips.

"Yeah, I'll bet you do. Try not to worry, though. I'm gonna get you out of here… somehow."

A confused frown flickered across Elliot's bruised and battered features.

"You? What about…" He trailed off, looking around slowly, and his eyes finally came to rest of the prone figure lying next to him. "Bobby…? Wh… What happened t… to him?"

Mike hesitated. It had been fairly obvious that Elliot had been delirious when he hit Bobby with the rock, and the last thing he wanted was for Elliot to suffer any degree of guilt for something that really was not his fault.

"Mike?" Elliot asked hoarsely. "Did… Did I…?" And then Mike saw the realisation dawn as Elliot remembered his delirium-driven actions of just a few minutes ago. "Oh god… I did…"

"Don't," Mike pleaded with him, feeling an almost nauseating sense of dejavu. Forget about their collective guilt trips, Bobby and Elliot were both going to owe him big time when they got home again. "Please, Elliot, don't. We don't have the time for guilt trips, pal. Save it for when we're safe, okay? When we're safe, you and Bobby can wallow all you like, but not now. Okay, pal?"

Elliot groaned again softly. As horrible as he felt at the realisation that he had caused one of his companions harm, he also knew that Mike was right. Now was not the time or the place for it.

"We g… gotta get out of here," he whispered, even as he slid back into that semi-conscious state once more. Mike grimaced. That was one of the biggest understatements he'd heard yet.

Looking around, his gaze fell on the stretcher that Bobby had assembled. It was useless now, for Bobby was certainly in no position to carry his end. In fact, the only other able-bodied person in the vicinity was currently tied up and hand-cuffed in the downstairs bathroom of the cabin. There was no way in hell that Mike would even consider trying to use Blake, no matter how confident he was in his ability to control him. It would have been suicide, plain and simple.

Mike looked around him slowly, tired and distressed. He had two options as he saw it, each one equally unpalatable. He could try to make an adjustment to the stretcher, and convert it into a travois, or he could leave them there, go on his own and do what he and Bobby had so briefly discussed. He could then take Blake's car, and drive to the nearest town to get help.

The problem with the first option was that he could take only one man at a time, and it meant leaving someone here on their own for who knew how long. And then, he would have to leave whoever he'd taken first alone in the cabin while he went back for the other. If Bobby's estimate had been right, then it could take an absolute minimum of an hour and a half just to make the trip one way – three hours for a round trip – making it a total of at least six hours to get them both back to the cabin. In all truth, he suspected it would take even longer than that, given that neither Bobby nor Elliot were particularly light-weight, and he was not exactly at his physical best.

The problem that option two presented was that it would mean leaving both Bobby and Elliot alone in the woods, completely defenceless. Neither man was in a fit state to defend themselves if anything else were to happen. Mike was loathed to leave them alone for what could be a considerable period of time, with who knew what wild animals lurking in the trees. Sure, he knew Bobby had said there was nothing more vicious than hungry racoons in the area, but he really didn't care to take any chances. And even though they had left him securely tied up, there was still the issue of the monster that was under lockdown in the cabin. If _he_ got out, God forbid, they'd all be screwed.

Both options placed in him in an almost untenable position, and yet, if he did nothing, that would be worse still. Elliot would most definitely not survive, and Bobby… Mike had no way of knowing how serious his head injury really was. He'd heard plenty of medical terms in his time as a cop, and he knew damned well that a hard enough blow to the head – especially to the temple area – could kill, but he didn't know whether the blow Bobby had suffered was that severe or not.

He looked over at Bobby, taking in his ashen features, and the hideous purple-black bruise that had already formed where he'd been struck twice now. All he knew for certain was that it wasn't good, and that in itself was an enormous understatement.

"What do I do?" he whispered, distraught. "What the fuck am I supposed to do, Bobby?"

But there was no answer, just as he'd known there wouldn't be.

* * *

Minutes passed at a crawl, and the light began to fade as darkness began to threaten, and all the while Mike sat and watched Bobby and Elliot in silence. Never before in his life had he felt so utterly inadequate as he did right then. Even the weekend that he and Bobby had spent trapped in that cage had not left him feeling so completely useless.

He checked each of his companions every couple of minutes, but in reality there was precious little he could do for either one. His first-aid knowledge was minimal at best. He knew CPR – NYPD cop did – and how to staunch the bleeding from a gunshot wound, but that was about it. Bobby was the one with the extended knowledge, not him… Although, he decided grimly, he was damn well going to do a full first-aid course when they were out of this mess.

He shut his eyes, thinking of the other two people who meant the most to him, and wondering miserably when, or if, he would see them again. He was sure that if Alex and Carolyn had been there, they would have been able to take Blake down without anyone taking a tumble down a goddamn precipice.

All of a sudden, he wanted nothing more to see them both. Carolyn, his partner; and Alex, his lover. A bitter smiled flickered across his lips. He was sure they'd find a reason to whack him on the head for this, even though he was fairly positive that none of what had happened was his fault this time.

Mike's gaze went back to Bobby, and he felt his gut twist up all over again.

"What do I do, Bobby?" he whispered again, but once more there was no answer forthcoming. He shut his eyes again and, as much for comfort as anything else, tried to picture the two women in his life. He found their images easily enough, and sighed softly as he allowed himself to focus on those images. Exhaustion gradually overcame him and, with those images firmly entrenched in his mind, for whatever small measure of comfort they could afford him, Mike lay down on the hard, cold ground.

Another soft sigh escaped him, and he drifted off into an uneasy slumber.

* * *

Olivia stood in the doorway of Elliot's apartment, looking around in a daze. The entire apartment had been cordoned off as a crime scene, and CSU had gone through with meticulous care, but there was nothing. No hard evidence that it was Blake who had trashed the place, and no clue as to where Elliot might have gone. She shuddered. For all they knew, Blake might already have him, and if that was the case…

She shook the thought violently from her mind. To think like that was effectively admitting defeat, and she wasn't giving up on finding her partner. Maybe, just maybe, Cragen had been right, and wherever Elliot had disappeared to, it was beyond Blake's reach. Perhaps, Elliot would turn up at the squad room on Monday morning, perfectly fine and completely oblivious to all the panic that had erupted over the weekend.

A soft huff of irritation escaped her lips. If that were to happen, she'd kill him herself.

"You're not going to find anything here, you know," a voice said behind her, and she looked around to find Fin standing there, looking as sombre as ever.

"I know," she murmured. "Part of me just hoped that I'd come here, and find something… some clue… that everyone else had missed."

Fin laid a hand gently on her shoulder.

"C'mon, Liv. There's nothing we can do right now. Let's go get a drink, and something to eat, in that order."

She hesitated only momentarily before allowing him to guide her out of the building.

* * *

Carolyn saw them first, wandering into the bar and grill looking like a couple of drowned rats, minus the water. She hesitated, and then commented in surprise to Alex, who was busy helping herself to a large helping of chilli fries.

"I thought Olivia Benson was in Jersey. Isn't that what Mike said that Elliot told him?"

"Something like that," Alex answered. "Why?"

"Because she just walked in with Fin Tutuola."

Alex shifted around in her seat to look and, sure enough, spotted the two SVU detectives waiting just inside the door to be shown to a table.

"They look seriously miserable," Alex murmured. "And coming in here for a meal isn't going to help any. They're booked out."

"We've got two extra chairs here," Carolyn suggested. Alex hesitated, and then shrugged and nodded.

"Okay. Go get them before they get booted back out the door."

Grinning, Carolyn shot to her feet and went to get their colleagues.

* * *

"Thanks, guys," Olivia said with a sigh as she and Fin sat down. "I don't think I had the energy to go looking for somewhere else to eat."

"No problem," Alex assured her. "We couldn't in all good conscience leave a brother and sister out in the cold. Would have thought you'd know better than to turn up to a place like this without booking first, though."

"In our defence, we've had other things on our minds," Fin said quietly, and Olivia nodded.

"I wasn't even supposed to be here tonight. I should have still been in New Jersey."

"So why come rushing back?" Carolyn wondered. Olivia and Fin exchanged glances, and then Olivia sighed heavily, deciding there was no reason to keep it under wraps.

"Does the name Darius Blake mean anything to you?" Fin asked, and both Alex and Carolyn nodded in answer.

"The Riverside Rapist from six or seven years ago, right?" Alex queried.

"Right," Fin confirmed. "That's the son of a bitch."

A brief silence met the confirmation, and then Carolyn spoke tentatively.

"Isn't he in prison for life? Took a plea in exchange for giving up the locations of his victims' bodies?"

"Fourteen consecutive life sentences," Fin told them. "He got a life sentence for each victim."

Alex frowned.

"But didn't he only kill twelve women?"

"He killed twelve women," Olivia answered in a subdued voice. "The first victim's body was never found. Blake kept that one to himself, and no one could get it out of him. The other two victims were me and Elliot."

Startled silence met the admission.

"You and Elliot?" Carolyn echoed softly in horror. "What happened?"

"We were running a sting operation to try and catch the son of a bitch," Fin told them. "Olivia offered to be the bait. Elliot wasn't happy about it… Hell, none of us were. But the brass were all for it. Anyway, we set up the sting, and everything that could go wrong _did_ go wrong. Blake practically walked right into the middle of everything, and snatched Liv right out from under our noses."

"How badly did he hurt you?" Alex asked softly, feeling a growing lump in the pit of her stomach as her memories took her back to her own abduction by Jo Gage. A bitter smile graced Olivia's features.

"He didn't. Oh, don't get me wrong, he slapped me around a little when he first took me, but that was all. He took me to a house, and he talked a bit about what he was going to do to me. Horrible things that would give anyone nightmares… But then he left for a while, and when he came back, something had changed. He just sat and stared at me for the longest time, and then he left me alone again. He never said anything more to me, and he never touched me. The only time he spoke to me was on the third day, when he told me Elliot was coming to get me." She shuddered a little at the memory. "I should have known then, but there wasn't anything I could do anyway. Blake convinced Elliot to basically give himself up… but what Elliot didn't know was that Blake wasn't interested in me anymore. He was interested in Elliot. He… He hurt Elliot badly… so badly, that I didn't think he was going to live."

"We got there just as Blake was getting ready to cut out Elliot's eyes," Fin told Alex and Carolyn softly. "The son of a bitch went down fighting, and screaming about being robbed. He took a plea bargain, but only after the Prosecution rested its case in court, and he realised Elliot wasn't going to be testifying. The bastard was obsessed with Elliot, and he never got over being interrupted before he could kill him."

"Okay," Alex said tentatively. "So what does that have to do with now?"

"Blake escaped from prison early yesterday morning," Fin answered grimly. "We have no idea where he is…"

"And what's worse," Olivia added in distress, "is we don't know where Elliot is!"

Alex and Carolyn both froze, staring first at Olivia and Fin, and then at each other.

"What?" Olivia asked hoarsely. "What is it?"

Slowly, Alex turned her attention to Fin.

"This morning… When we saw you and Munch at the café, you were looking for Elliot, weren't you?"

"Yeah," Fin admitted uncomfortably.

"And you were going to come back and ask us something, weren't you? But Munch stopped you?"

Fin glanced uneasily at Olivia before nodding.

"I was gonna ask Carolyn if Elliot had spoke to her in the last few days… _Ow_!" He recoiled as Alex leaned across and punched him hard in the arm.

"You idiot!" she exploded, oblivious to the heads that turned all around them in reaction to her outburst. "If you'd ignored your moron of a partner, you would have known this morning that Elliot is up in the Catskills!"

"What the hell is he doing up there?" Fin asked, even as he started up.

"Bobby and Mike invited him along. They were going to spend the weekend at Jim Deakins' cabin. They've been up there since Thursday night, all three of them!"

"You call Cragen," Olivia told Fin tensely, and then looked to Alex. "Please tell me there's a phone up there?"

"Sorry, no," Alex said. "There's no cellular reception, and it's too remote for the phone lines to reach. It's one of the reasons Deakins picked that location, so that family vacations couldn't be interrupted. A satellite phone is the only thing that could reach them, and Bobby and Mike don't have one."

Olivia and Fin were both on their feet by then.

"Thanks," Fin told them. "We owe you girls big time."

Then he and Olivia were gone, out the door.

Leaving a scattering of bills on the table to pay for their half-eaten meal, Alex and Carolyn took off after their fellow detectives.

* * *

"Hey!" Alex shouted as they ran to catch up. "Wait!"

"Look," Fin said shortly as Alex and Carolyn caught up to them, "we appreciate your help, ladies. We really do, but this is our concern now, okay? Not yours."

"The hell it's not!" Alex snapped. "You've just told us that there's a lunatic on the loose who wants Elliot's head on a platter, and we assume he'll kill anyone who gets in his way. Right?"

"Pretty much," Olivia conceded reluctantly. Carolyn nodded.

"So, which part of 'Elliot went with Bobby and Mike' don't you get?"

Fin opened his mouth to speak, only to be cut off by Olivia.

"They're right, Fin. Bobby and Mike are in danger as well." She looked back to the other women. "Do either of you know where the cabin is, exactly?"

"No," Alex admitted ruefully. "I've never been there. We'll have to call Deakins, and find out from him where it is."

"Can you do that?" Olivia asked. "We'll call Cragen, and get him to organise transport there."

Alex nodded, and then looked over at Carolyn.

"We need to tell him," she said softly, but Carolyn held up her hands.

"He's _your_ captain, not mine. _I'll _call Deakins; _you_ call Ross."

Grimacing, Alex hit speed dial for her captain's cell phone.

* * *

_tbc..._


	13. Mobilisation

A/N: _Apparently, we are doing shorter chapters, more frequently._

* * *

Jimmy Deakins was in the middle of a romantic at-home dinner with his wife when the phone rang. He briefly considered ignoring it, but for Angie's wry smile and gentle urging of him to take the call.

"Go on," she told him with a soft laugh. "You know you'll be too busy wondering who it was to focus on me if you don't answer it."

Kissing her lightly, Jimmy walked over to the sideboard and picked up the phone.

"Hello?"

"_Captain?_"

Instantly, Jimmy felt his stomach begin to knot up. He recognised that voice, as well as the tone.

"Carolyn?" he asked, trying his best to keep his own voice neutral. Maybe he was just jumping the gun… although he doubted she'd called at nearly five-thirty on a Saturday evening just to say hello. "What can I do for you?"

"I was wondering… Could I get the location of your cabin? The one that Bobby and Mike went to this weekend?"

Jimmy couldn't quite suppress the frown that rose on his face.

"Why? Is something wrong?"

There was just a split second's hesitation. That was all, but it was more than enough, and Carolyn knew she couldn't lie to him.

"_Actually, Sir, there is. Elliot Stabler from SVU went with them. The problem is that we've just found out that Darius Blake escaped from a prison transport yesterday morning, and he's gone after Elliot._"

Jimmy felt his stomach drop away entirely, and he suddenly found he had to suppress a power desire to tell Carolyn he'd meet her in at the squad room. In a numb voice, he gave her the location of the cabin.

"_Thankyou, Sir,_" Carolyn murmured gratefully.

"Carolyn…"

"_Yes, Sir?_"

"Let me know that they're okay?"

He heard her breath coming out in a rush, and he wondered what she had thought he was going to ask.

"_I'll do that. Thankyou, Captain_."

And then the line was cut as Carolyn ended the call at her end. Jimmy stood staring at the phone for nearly a minute after she'd hung up, until he was startled back to reality by his wife's arms around his waist.

"Let me guess," Angie murmured. "Bobby and Mike are giving their captain a headache?"

"Something like that," he answered, suddenly reluctant to tell her the truth. He should have known better. His wife was the one person he had never been able to lie to. After a moment of staring into her eyes, he found himself repeating what Carolyn had told him. Angie listened, pale and frightened.

"Oh god… And there's no way to warn them…"

"They'll be okay," Jimmy murmured, hugging her to him. "Bobby and Mike are resourceful, and so is Elliot Stabler, from all I've heard. Blake won't be any match for the three of them. They'll probably have taken him down already, and be getting themselves drunk on Scotch by the time back-up arrives."

"Do you really believe that?" Angie asked, and Jimmy hugged her even more tightly still.

"I have to, Angie. I have to believe it."

* * *

Danny Ross was busy doing nothing, and enjoying every minute of it. So few and far between now were his moments of peace and solitude, that he positively cherished them when they did come. He lay sprawled on his sofa, head propped up on a pillow and a cold beer in one hand, while letting the thumping bass from his stereo wash over him. The noise sometimes pissed off the neighbours, but none of them had complained since the night four years ago when he'd single-handedly taken down a serial home-invader who for weeks had been stalking elderly women in his neighbourhood.

He had the volume up so loud that it was only by pure chance that he caught the sound of his cell phone ringing in between riffs. Scowling at the unwanted interruption, he sat up and snatched up the tiny piece of technology that had so much power to impact on his personal time.

"Ross," he growled into the phone, half hoping that whoever was on the other end would think twice, say never mind and hang up. No such luck.

"_Captain, it's Eames._"

Ross felt irritation, followed rapidly by concern. He knew there was no way she'd be calling him on the weekend unless something was wrong. Taking a moment to allow his temper to settle, he tried again.

"What is it, Eames?"

"_Captain, we've got a problem. A very big problem. It's Mike and Bobby_…_"_

Though he couldn't be sure, Ross thought his blood pressure might have shot up just at the mention of their names.

"What about them, Eames?"

"_You probably aren't aware of this, Sir, but Elliot Stabler from SVU went with them._"

"Go on," Ross told her, not in the mood for an extended tale.

"_Sir, are you aware that Darius Blake escaped from prison yesterday morning?_"

At that, Ross went very quiet. He knew the Riverside Rapist case by default – at the time, he had been a lieutenant with the homicide squad that had originally caught the case before it was turned over to the Special Victims Unit. He'd continued to keep track of the case as SVU hunted for the killer, and subsequently he'd been aware of Olivia Benson's abduction by Blake, and the violent assault that had nearly killed Elliot Stabler.

"No," he said finally, quietly, as all the pieces rapidly came together in his mind. "I wasn't aware of that. Where are you right now, Detective?"

"_Carolyn Barek and I are on our way to SVU. We're with Olivia Benson and Fin Tutuola._"

"I'll be there in fifteen," he said abruptly, and ended the call before Alex had a chance to say anything more. Getting up quickly, he took just enough time to switch off the stereo and grab his coat before bolting out the door.

* * *

Cragen was already there with Munch when the four detectives arrived, and he looked as eager to get moving as they were.

"We know where he is," Olivia burst out. "We need to get up there now!"

"I know," Cragen assured her. "We'll get there as fast as we can, I promise you." He looked around as the door banged open, and Ross strode in. "Hey, Danny."

Ross nodded in grim greeting.

"Don. Eames gave me the basics on the phone. What's the plan?"

"We got the exact location of the cabin from Jim Deakins," Fin said firmly. "We're assuming that Blake's been up there since last night, or this morning at the latest."

"There's no way to contact them remotely," Alex said, her firm tone of voice belying the fear that Ross knew she had to be experiencing. "There's no phone line up there, and it's a dead zone for cells. We have to get up there, and we have to go now."

Ross looked back to Cragen, deferring to the other captain in an unspoken acknowledgement that they were on SVU turf.

"Your show, Captain, but I want in. Two of my detectives are in danger, as well as Stabler."

Cragen conceded without argument. He knew it would have pointless to try and lock the Major Case Squad out. Pointless, and unnecessary.

"I've already made arrangements for a chopper to get us all up there. We need to be at the helipad on top of One Police Plaza in twenty minutes."

Ross nodded.

"Okay, then. Let's move out."

* * *

He dreamt he was with Alex. It was the kind of dream that was bittersweet, a reminder of a good thing that was just beyond his grasp. He couldn't quite reach her in his dream, and her pleas for him to try harder just about broke his heart.

_I am trying_, he insisted.

_I know you are, baby, but you have to try harder. You can do it, but you have to have to __**believe**__ you can do it._

He stretched further, and their fingertips brushed.

_It hurts_, he gasped as pain flared along his arms and down his side.

_I know it does, but you can't stop. C'mon, Mikey, you can do it. Please, just try_…

* * *

"Please… wake up… C'mon, Mikey, don't do this to me. Not now…"

Slowly, Mike dragged himself out of the oblivion of sleep as a familiar voice cut into his consciousness. He forced his eyes open, wondering dimly at the monumental effort he had to make just to achieve that simple thing.

"Wha…?"

"That's it, Mikey. Wake up. You can do it."

Groaning softly, Mike managed to open his eyes all the way, and in the rapidly fading light, he nearly wept at the face that hovered above his own.

"Bobby? You're okay!"

Mike sat up, a little too quickly, and groaned again as pain seared through his side.

"Easy," Bobby mumbled. "Just take it slow. You got shot, remember?"

"Just buckshot," Mike said wearily. "I'm okay. Not so sure about you, though."

"That… That's makes two of us," Bobby admitted and, as his wits returned to him, Mike could hear the slight shakiness in his brother's voice, and he could see the way that Bobby was struggling to stay lucid. "I… Mikey… I think I might have a… a fractured skull."

Mike wanted to argue, to tell Bobby he was wrong, but he couldn't. He couldn't stop thinking about that unnatural indentation where Bobby had been hit twice now.

For just a moment, Mike had a powerful longing to just go back to sleep. But then, remnants of his dream filtered back to him, and he could hear Alex's voice as clearly as if she was standing right there beside him.

_Try harder. You have to_…

He drew in a steadying breath, and made his decision.

"Bobby, do you think you can walk?"

Bobby stared at him, dazed.

"Walk?"

"Yeah, baby brother. Walk, as in walk back to the cabin."

"I… I think so…"

Mike nodded decisively.

"Good. That's all I needed to know."

"What are you doing?" Bobby asked as Mike got awkwardly to his feet.

"I'm going to find a way to secure Elliot to that stretcher, so that I can use it as one of those travois things. Then you can walk, and I'll drag Elliot."

"That's a… a good idea," Bobby praised him, and Mike regarded him soberly.

"I'm just not leaving either of you behind. I won't do that. I _can't_ do that."

Bobby gazed up at Mike with an odd look on his face, causing the other man to shift uncomfortably.

"What is it?" Mike asked finally. A small, tired smile flickered across Bobby's face.

"Was just thinking how lucky I am… to have you for a big brother."

A powerful feeling of warmth spread through Mike, from the inside out, and right at that moment it didn't seem quite so cold. Favouring Bobby with a grateful smile, he set about his task.

It took Mike half an hour to rig the stretcher so that Elliot wouldn't slide off when Mike tried to drag him. By then it was cold, dark and Mike had to admit that he didn't know which way to go to get back to the cabin.

"Bobby, I hope you know where to go," he said grimly as he rummaged through the kits they'd brought with them earlier that day. "Because I don't."

"Torch," Bobby told him breathlessly. "In the side pocket. And yeah, I know where we're going. Don't… Don't worry about that."

Mike pulled out the torch and handed to it Bobby, who switched it on. It was powerful, illuminating their surroundings in a flood of light.

"Well, at least we've got light," Mike sighed. Bobby smiled weakly.

"Yeah. It… It'd be a bitch if one of us tripped in the… the dark… and broke a leg."

Mike chuckled, quietly grateful that Bobby was at least still capable of making jokes. He turned his attention to Elliot, who was watching them through half-closed eyes from where he lay on the makeshift travois.

"How're you doing there, Elliot?"

"Great," Elliot mumbled.

"We're just about ready to move," Mike told him. "I think it's probably gonna hurt you a lot, and I'm really sorry, but I can't help that. There's no other way, and I'm not leaving you behind."

Elliot reached up with his left hand, and caught Mike's hand briefly in his own.

"S'okay, Mike. Don't… apologise. It… should be me apologising… to both of you."

Bobby came over, frowning slightly.

"How do you figure that?"

"This," Elliot answered, answered, struggling even then to maintain some semblance of reason. "This… my fault…"

Bobby and Mike exchanged glances. That was a road they had been down before, and neither cared to travel it again.

"Not your fault, pal," Mike told him. "Blake's fault. Not yours."

"But… if I hadn't g… gatecrashed your weekend…"

'Then you would have been home alone," Mike cut him off. "A sitting duck. You probably would have been dead by now, so don't apologise to us, either, Elliot. Friends don't have to say sorry for saving each other's asses."

Whether the silence that followed from Elliot was acceptance on his part, or whether he was simply too incoherent to carry on the conversation, Mike didn't know. He checked the straps once more that secured Elliot to the stretcher, and then looked over at Bobby. His brother carried the torch, as well as four of the several bottles of water they'd brought with them. He'd found a long, sturdy stick, and was leaning on it for support.

"Ready?"

Bobby nodded, and then winced at the pain that the movement caused him.

"Yeah," he mumbled. "As ready as I can be."

Stepping around, Mike took hold of the handles of the stretcher, and lifted. Elliot couldn't suppress a sob as pain swept through his body at the movement, but Mike didn't stop, or even hesitate. Once he was assured of his grip, he spoke with grim determination.

"Okay. Let's get the hell off of this mountain."

* * *

_tbc..._


	14. Arrival

A/N: _I'll be ducking for cover after posting this chapter, but I have to put up this disclaimer. Mr Blake's opinions on Bobby's eyes are not representative of the author's opinions. I think Bobby's eyes are extremely gorgeous._

* * *

Darius Blake was seriously pissed off. Everything had gone wrong, and now it seemed his prize was permanently out of his reach. Even if he got himself free of his bindings and found them, the odds that Elliot had survived that fall were slim, and he did not want the eyes of a dead man.

No, he'd learnt early on that taking the eyes while the victim was still alive was the only way to do it. Eyes from a dead body were dull and ordinary, whereas eyes taken from a living person seemed to him like he'd captured a piece of that individual's soul.

And there was the truth that he had never confessed to anyone. The eyes themselves were not the trophies that he claimed, but a portion of his victims' very souls. He had so looked forward to claiming his piece of Elliot Stabler's soul. He'd planned it meticulously during the many months he'd been locked up, and he was beyond furious that his carefully-laid plans had been ruined by those two interlopers. If those other two cops hadn't been there, he would have had his prize by now. It burned him to the core that he'd missed out.

Blake grunted in pain as he squirmed in the narrow bath tub. Maybe when he got loose, he'd do what he'd planned to _them_, instead. He had to admit, he'd liked the glimpse he'd gotten of one of them in particular – a pair of beautiful, Irish-green eyes. He'd only ever had one other pair of green eyes, and he wouldn't mind starting off his new collection with another pair. No, he wouldn't mind that at all.

As for the other cop… He had a pair of chocolate brown eyes that were nice enough to look at, but they didn't excite him at all. Threatening to take them after Elliot had fallen down that precipice had been the rage talking. He'd been furious, and he wanted to see terror in the big cop's eyes. He didn't want them for himself, though. There was nothing special about them for him to want to try and take them, so… what was his name, _Bobby_? Bobby would be spared that particular torture.

There were, however, plenty of other things that Blake had already decided that he wouldn't mind doing to him. His time in prison had given him a certain, somewhat twisted appreciation for the male body that he had never had before, and he was already personally acquainted with the power that could be attained through rape and sexual torture. He really liked the idea of bringing that big, arrogant son of a bitch cop down, and he believed that was the way to do it. There was nothing quite like seeing a confident personality like that cop reduced to a quivering emotional wreck.

Blake shifted uncomfortably, realising he was starting to become aroused by the thoughts of what he was going to do when he got his hands on the two cops. Never mind all that right then. Before he could concern himself with them, he needed to get himself loose.

Another grunt of pain escaped him. About half an hour ago, after a little luck and a lot of ingenuity, Blake had finally managed to get his hands on a bar of soap. So far, he'd worked one hand halfway through the cuffs, until his knuckles prevented him from getting it any further through. He suspected he was going to have to break a bone or two in his own hands to get them out of the cuffs entirely, but he stalled on doing that in the hope that he might still be able to slip it through.

He wasn't afraid of the pain that breaking his own hands would bring. Usually he welcomed pain, but breaking his hands to escape would severely hamper his ability to deal with his prey. He needed to be able to wield a knife, and he couldn't do that if both hands were broken. He didn't want anything holding him back now that he'd acquired a new set of goals for himself.

Gritting his teeth, Blake pulled hard against the cuff and, finally, his hand slid through the gap. The metal edge took off more than a thing layer of skin, but the bones were all intact. His hand hurt like it was on fire, but he could still use it and it was a hurt that he could use as a driving force.

Grinning maniacally, Blake went to work on his other cuffed wrist.

* * *

"ETA, five minutes," Cragen told them as he came back from speaking to the pilot. "We can't land right where the cabin is. There's not enough room for the chopper. We'll be setting down about ten minutes away, but the PD from the nearest town has been alerted. They'll be waiting for us with vehicles."

"We're going to have a hell of a time explaining all of this if Blake _isn't_ here," Munch commented ruefully.

"He's here," Olivia said with grim certainty as she stared at her hands. "I know he is, and we have to get down there as fast as we can."

* * *

As promised, there were vehicles awaiting their use when the chopper landed, and they soon bundled into the cars and were on their way to the Deakins' cabin. In the second car, Alex and Carolyn sat in the rear seat, with Ross in the front with the driver. The captain glanced over his shoulder at them, taking in their pale, distressed faces with concern.

"I'm sure they'll be okay," he said finally. Carolyn uttered a short, bitter laugh.

"Excuse me, Captain Ross, but you don't know Mike and Bobby. They've been best friends ever since that first weekend, and they've hardly been able to keep out of trouble since then. Every time they spend a significant amount of time together, they end up in some sort of trouble."

"And it's not always Mike who instigates it, either," Alex added. She looked across at Carolyn. "Remember two and a half months back? When they got themselves arrested for creating a public nuisance, and being drunk and disorderly outside the Two-Seven? That was Bobby's brilliant idea, putting the Staten Island Lifeguards sign up outside the precinct. Not Mike's."

Ross could barely conceal the smirk that crept onto his face.

"That would explain the phone call I got from Lieutenant Van Buren about maintaining adequate control over my detectives. I never was able to get her to explain that one fully."

"Pair of idiots didn't even remember getting arrested the next morning," Carolyn snorted. "They woke up in a holding cell, and thought it was just a prank by some of Mike's former Two-Seven colleagues, until Van Buren showed them the booking forms. They're damned lucky that she's got a soft spot for Mike, and dropped the charges pretty much straight away. That's why it never officially got back to you, Sir."

"Soft spot my ass," Alex retorted. "I think she figured the hangovers they had the next day were more than punishment enough. That, and the photos that Ed Green took of them both unconscious in the holding cell."

Ross's eyebrows shot up.

"Tell me, would there happen to be copies of those still floating around?"

"You wouldn't be planning on blackmailing them, would you?" Alex asked in mock horror. Ross tried to look innocent, and failed miserably.

"Of course not. Just outright threaten them the next time they act out."

Carolyn looked away out the window, struggling against the threat of tears.

"God, I hope they're all right."

"Have faith, Detective," Ross told her quietly, although he was having a very hard time concealing his own doubts and fears.

* * *

Blake was working on getting his other hand out of the cuffs when he heard the chopper overhead, and he knew beyond any doubt that it was help coming for his intended victims. Cursing angrily, he set to work in earnest to free his other hand, and snarled in pain and anger as he felt something in his hand crack as the appendage finally slid through painfully long minutes later.

Hissing in impatient anger, he quickly untied his ankles, and climbed out of the bath tub. The bathroom door was easily opened – it could only be locked from the inside, and the door opened into the bathroom, making it impossible to brace it from the outside.

Leaving his temporary prison behind, Blake strode through to the kitchen, to find a suitable knife. He wasn't happy about losing the blade he'd come up the mountain with, but there was little he could do about it. It was going to be a case of just making do with what was available.

He went through the drawers with little care, yanking them out onto the floor and rummaging through the scattered cutlery for a suitable tool. He ignored the large carving knives – they held no interest for him, and were no good for the precision work he had in mind. What he needed was something small, sharp and precise…

Blake's face lit up, and he snatched a small paring knife up off the floor. It felt good in his hands, was small enough for what he wanted, and it looked wickedly sharp. Grinning, he straightened up again. All he needed now was a torch, and he could go get his new prizes.

The back door that led from the kitchen outside suddenly exploded inward, and Blake cringed as he was nearly blinded by a powerful torch.

"_Police_! Don't move, Blake!"

He knew that voice. It was the same voice that he'd heard in his ear as he was pulled away from Elliot the first time. With a snarl of rage, Blake turned to flee, only to be forced to a halt when cops surged through the other door into the kitchen, weapons also at the ready. He was surrounded before he knew it, trapped with nowhere to run to.

Slowly, Don Cragen approached Blake, weapon drawn and ready to fire at a moment's notice.

"Drop the knife, Darius. Just let it go."

For a long moment, it seemed Blake wasn't going to comply. But then, finally, he loosened his grip on the blade and it dropped to the floor with a clatter. Fin moved in and pulled Blake's hands behind him, cuffing him firmly, while Cragen moved within arm's length of the killer.

"Where are they, Blake?"

Blake stood frozen for a moment before a sly grin settled across his features, and he visibly relaxed as it occurred to him that these cops didn't know he'd just escaped from the makeshift prison of the bathroom, and they didn't know that he didn't have their precious detectives. Oh, but he was going to have fun with this…

"Where are who, Captain?"

"Don't mess us around, Blake," Cragen snarled angrily. "You know who I mean. Where is Detective Stabler, Detective Logan and Detective Goren?"

Blake looked around slowly, taking in the faces that surrounded him, and his grin widened when he spotted Olivia.

"Detective Benson," he practically purred. "Didn't think I'd ever get to see you again. Today's just getting better and better."

"Where are they?" Cragen exploded, but Blake fell silent, still with that infuriating smirk on his face.

"Okay," Ross said grimly. "Let's secure this son of a bitch, and then we'll search the cabin."

Cragen nodded, grateful to have another authority figure step in. He was far too close to this case to be truly objective.

"Let's do it, people. Now!"

* * *

"Find something?"

Fin and Munch looked around to see Ross standing there behind them, and both men automatically stepped out of the way to let him see what they'd found.

"Someone was held in here," Fin commented soberly as they observed the bathroom from the doorway. "No way of knowing who."

"But you could make an educated guess," Ross put in.

"Elliot," Munch suggested darkly, and Fin agreed.

Ross ventured forward, looking cautiously into the tub, and neither Fin nor Munch could miss the relief on his face.

"There's blood, but not much. Whoever was in this tub, I don't think Blake harmed them in here." He paused, reflecting that that was probably not the most comforting thought, but there was nothing more he could offer the two anxious detectives. And, honestly speaking, he was as worried about Bobby and Mike as they were about Elliot. "Regardless of who he had in here," he went on, "they're not here anymore. There's no one else in the cabin, or the immediate area around the cabin."

"Is Blake talking?" Fin asked as they followed Ross out.

"No. The son of a bitch said he'll talk, but only to the women. Since Cragen isn't letting them anywhere near him, it's turned into a stalemate."

"Give me five minutes alone with him," Fin said heatedly. "I'll get him to talk."

It took some effort for Ross to suppress a powerful desire to agree with Fin. It was all too tempting to just belt the living daylights out of Blake until he told them where their colleagues were. Sometimes, Ross thought in bemusement, he heartily wished he was still a detective, and not one of the brass. Some days, he hated having to toe the political line.

"I understand your anger, Detective," Ross told him quietly, "but it wouldn't achieve anything."

"No?" Munch remarked dryly. "_I'd_ feel better."

"We need him to talk, Captain, no matter how we do it," Fin said tensely. "Elliot's life might depend on it. Goren's and Logan's lives, too."

Ross paused before leading the way back into the living area, where Cragen was currently trying to interrogate Blake.

"We'll get him to talk, Detective Tutuola. One way or another, believe me."

He turned and walked into the next room, and Fin and Munch exchanged grim looks before following in silence.

* * *

"I can't believe Cragen wouldn't let us in there," Olivia growled as she paced back and forth in the kitchen. Carolyn regarded her with sympathy.

"What good would it do to be in there? Blake just sees every female as a potential victim. He wouldn't take us seriously, and he sure as hell wouldn't tell us where the guys are."

"Assuming he even knows," Alex added quietly, drawing both Olivia's and Carolyn's attention to her.

"What do you mean?" Olivia asked, frowning. Alex looked back at them.

"We're all just assuming that he has them somewhere. But what if he doesn't? What if they got away from him?"

"If they did, then they're on foot somewhere," Carolyn mused. "They already found the car Blake stole, and the guys' car had all four tires slashed."

"If they're hiding somewhere nearby, though, they would have heard the chopper," Olivia argued. "They would have heard us arrive here, wouldn't they?"

Carolyn shrugged.

"Let's assume they did get away from Blake. Maybe they're hurt… maybe not. But I doubt they would have stayed close by while Blake was on the loose."

"They could be anywhere," Alex whispered, feeling that same pervasive sense of helplessness as when Bobby and Mike had been missing that very first time.

"There's one thing we can take comfort in," Carolyn reminded the other two detectives. "Wherever they are, they're together. They'll take care of each other. They'll be okay."

Olivia nodded mutely and resumed her pacing, and in doing so missed the look that was passed between Alex and Carolyn, the look that said as much as they wanted to believe that their men were all right, they knew better.

* * *

Blake was enjoying himself, so much so that even Ross was having a hard time not giving in to the urge to start smacking him around. He wanted to, so badly that it almost physically hurt, but he restrained himself. A brief glance told him that Cragen was having a similarly hard time.

"We're wasting time, Captain," Fin said impatiently, while glaring at Blake. "He's just jerking us around. He's not gonna tell us where they are."

Cragen didn't answer. He was too angry and too frustrated even to think straight. It was a black night out there now, though, and they couldn't start searching until first light. They had no option but to stay where they were and keep at Blake.

Slowly, Ross moved around to the door, to stand behind Blake. This required a different approach. If Bobby had been here, he knew he could have counted on the big detective to pull some trick out of his proverbial hat to ensnare Blake. But Bobby was not there, and it was up to those present to come up with a way of tricking Blake into giving up the information that they wanted.

With that in mind, Ross slipped silently out of the room, leaving Blake alone with the SVU team.

* * *

"Captain?" Alex asked softly as Ross strode into the kitchen. "What's happening?"

"He won't talk," Ross told them bluntly, "but I have an idea. I'm going to go back in there, and I want you to wait about five minutes, and then come in and tell us they've been found."

Alex's eyebrows went up.

"You want me to lie?"

Ross didn't miss the amusement in her voice, but diplomatically chose to ignore it.

"I want you to act. You _can _act, can't you, Detective Eames?"

"I spent two and a half years in Vice, and six years as Bobby's partner," Alex said flatly. "I can act."

Ross nodded, satisfied.

"Good. Just remember, wait about five minutes before you give your little performance."

"So what happens after I do that?" Alex asked. "You don't expect him to just blurt it out, do you?"

"No," Ross admitted. He looked around at Olivia. "That's where _you_ come in, Detective Benson."

Olivia ceased her pacing very abruptly.

"Me?"

"Yes," Ross confirmed. "You. Once we all leave, I need you to go in there, and bait him, Detective Benson. Do you think you can do that? I know what he put you through the last time, and I'll understand if you can't…"

"I can do it," Olivia cut him off abruptly. "I want to do it."

"Okay," Ross murmured. "Just, be careful, and don't get too close to him, all right? Barek, you go in with her. Just stay in the background, and don't involve yourself unless you have to."

Carolyn nodded in wordless acquiescence. Ross turned his attention back to Alex.

"Five minutes," he told her, and then he was gone again.

* * *

_tbc..._


	15. A Dangerous Game

They had to stop frequently, making what was already a painfully slow trip even more drawn out. Bobby suspected that Mike was probably in more pain than he was willing to admit, but he'd long since given up pushing the subject with him. His own head hurt too ferociously to put up a halfway decent argument. His only victory was insisting on regular rest stops, something which Mike agreed to with reluctance.

Bobby was sure that if he hadn't insisted, Mike would have just kept going until he collapsed. As it was, he could see that his brother was struggling.

"Hear that?"

Bobby looked up at Mike, puzzled, as they sat side by side on a narrow log.

"Hear what?"

Mike's gaze went skyward.

"Choppers. I can hear choppers, Bobby. They're coming for us, baby brother."

Bobby looked up as well but try as he might, he could not hear a thing.

"Concussion must be getting worse," he mumbled. "Can't hear a thing."

Mike squeezed Bobby's shoulder gently.

"Trust me, Bobby. They're coming. If we can just get back to the cabin, we'll be fine."

"Let's go then," Bobby murmured, even though it seemed to Mike that he would have much preferred to curl up and go to sleep. Grimacing, Mike shifted around to look Elliot over.

"How're you doing there, pal?"

Elliot shuddered.

"Y… You were right, Bobby."

Bobby and Mike exchanged glances, each man wondering just how attached to reality Elliot was right then.

"What was I right about?" Bobby asked. His head was pounding so hard that it was difficult to concentrate on what Elliot was saying. Somehow, though, he managed.

"Me and… Olivia," Elliot whispered. "We l… love each o… other… But we've been d… dancing around each other for a… a few years now… and not just 'cause of the frat regs."

As Elliot spoke, tears worked their way out of blood-shot eyes, though neither Mike nor Bobby could be certain whether they were a result of emotional grief or physical pain. Probably, Mike mused, it was more likely a combination of both.

"Here's your opportunity, Elliot," Mike told him. "When we get off this friggin' mountain, you make sure to tell her how you feel. Trust me, she won't be able to resist you when you're all laid up and vulnerable like this."

Elliot looked up at Mike blearily.

"Speaking from e… experience… Mikey?"

Mike grinned faintly, wondering firstly whether Elliot was even aware that he was calling him "Mikey"; and secondly at the realisation that he wasn't offended by it coming from Elliot's lips anymore.

"Hell yeah," he answered with enthusiasm. "How do you think I got Alex Eames to fall for me?"

Elliot laughed weakly.

"Not the old Irish charm? I'm shocked…"

"She's Irish, too," Bobby pointed out. "Don't think it works on her."

"I know it doesn't," Mike snorted. "I tried it on her and she just shot me down."

"Mike, you just grinned at her and expected her to swoon," Bobby reminded him. "You're lucky she didn't hit you."

"So… how'd you get her to go out with you?" Elliot wondered.

"She told me to be sincere, so I was," Mike answered with a lopsided shrug. "That's how you've gotta be with Olivia."

"Yeah," Elliot mumbled, even as exhaustion took him over once more, and his eyes slid shut. "S… Sincere…"

"He's out again," Mike murmured unnecessarily. He looked over at Bobby, and winced at the sight of his brother's ashen features. "Man, you don't look so great either."

Bobby frowned just slightly. It was all the expression he could manage with his head pounding like it was.

"You don't look so hot either, Mikey."

Mike sighed.

"I'm just stating fact, baby brother. This is the wrong time to get defensive."

"Mikey…"

"Just tell me you can keep going? Because I can't drag both your asses along, and I am not leaving you behind."

With a determination and reserve of strength that Mike hadn't known he had, Bobby got to his feet once more.

"Let's go."

* * *

It was fairly obvious from the looks on the faces of Cragen, Fin and Munch as they exited the room that Ross had not clued them in on his plan. Cragen came to a halt outside the room, anxiety written all over his features.

"Well? Where are they?"

Ross signalled for them to keep it down, and ushered them away from the room.

"We haven't actually found them."

Genuine anger filled Cragen's face.

'Then what the hell is going on?"

"We haven't found them," Ross went on in a low voice, "but we want Blake to think we have. If he thinks we don't have any further use for him, then he might let something slip."

"Damn it, Danny, you're gambling with three lives here!" Cragen argued, but Ross refused to back down.

"We're not getting anywhere in there, Don. He won't talk to us, and you know it! But he might talk to Olivia."

Cragen went white.

"You're not sending Olivia in there to face that monster."

"She's already in there," Ross replied unapologetically. The rage that flared on Cragen's face was a sight to behold, and Ross found himself taking an instinctive step back, to put some distance between himself and the SVU captain.

"You stupid son of a bitch, Danny! Don't you know what he did to her?"

"I know what he did to Stabler in front of her," Ross countered quietly. "I know she wants her partner to be found. I know that she's willing to try."

"We've got to let her try," Munch said, reluctantly support the Major Case captain. "Unless we know exactly where Blake has them, we're not going to have any luck finding them until it's light again."

"John's right," Fin agreed. "Captain, you know what Blake likes to do to his victims. If he's done anything like that to Elliot… or to Goren or Logan…"

Fin trailed off, and Cragen finished the grim sentence for him.

"They may not survive the night… if they're even still alive."

"Goren and Logan might be a pair of pains in the ass, but they're resourceful," Ross countered. "I have to believe they're all right, wherever they are. All three of them."

Cragen was silent for so long, and his expression was so dark that Ross was just starting to wonder whether he should be wearing a vest. Then, finally, the SVU captain nodded.

"All right, we'll let her try. But if Blake doesn't come clean before morning, we make him talk, no matter how we go about it."

* * *

It took every ounce of mental and emotional strength that Olivia had not to simply pull out her gun and shoot Blake's kneecaps off. She really did want to, but at the same time that irritating little voice of reason whispered insistently that they would get nothing useful out of the killer is he was screaming in pain.

She had to play it cool, and not give anything away. Olivia grimaced. Now, more than ever, she relied on her ability to bluff, and play the perp, hoping ferociously that she could pull it off successfully. After all, it wasn't just her partner whose life depended on it, it was Bobby Goren and Mike Logan as well.

Slowly, Olivia walked around until she was standing right in front of Blake, and her stomach rolled unpleasantly at the sight of his smug face.

"Olivia," he purred. "Couldn't keep away from me, could you? Well, I guess I can understand that."

"Shut your mouth, you sick bastard," Olivia snapped. "I only came in to take one last look at you before you go back to your hole in the wall… Although, after this, I think you can probably look forward to an upgrade to Death Row."

Blake smirked at her.

"No bodies, so conviction, beautiful."

Olivia allowed a small smile to grace her features.

"Did you hear, asshole? We found them. We don't need you anymore. So long, Darius. Have a nice life… Whatever's left of it."

With that, Olivia turned and began to walk back towards the door, her heart pounding. If Blake called her bluff now, she was screwed.

"No fuckin' way," Blake called after her with a confidence that turned her stomach. "You couldn't have found them. Not that fast. Not in the dark."

"Oh?" Olivia retorted. "And why is that, Darius? Because we're just a bunch of dumb cops?"

"Nah, sweetheart. Because it'd take you at least an hour to climb down to where your precious Elliot landed after he took a tumble down that cliff."

Olivia froze, the blood running cold in her veins. Blake saw her reaction, and grinned cruelly.

"You haven't found them. But I could take you to him, Olivia. I know where he fell. Would you like me to show you? I'm sure you'd like to bury him, wouldn't you?"

Stricken, Olivia looked over at Carolyn. Equally pale, Carolyn came around to look at Blake.

"You don't have them somewhere," she stated with more confidence than she felt. Blake grinned at her.

"You can't know that for sure."

"Yes, I can," Carolyn countered. "You're not holding them somewhere, but you do know what happened to them."

"Smart lady," Blake conceded. "So what are you gonna do about it? You gonna slap me around some until I tell you?"

Carolyn drew in a steadying breath. She had one chance to get this right. She thought briefly of Bobby, but then pushed his face from her mind. She was hardly sure as it was whether her profiling skills were up to scratch for a challenge of this magnitude. Thinking about her missing boyfriend would do her no good at all.

"I'm not going to hurt you," she said calmly – far more calmly than she felt. "I'm not even going to threaten it. Pain doesn't frighten you, Darius. You like pain. You get off on it, regardless of whether it's yours or someone else's."

"Very smart lady," Blake whispered, licking his lips.

Carolyn glanced around as the door opened, and Alex slipped in. Perfect timing, she thought.

"Alex, do you have the switchblade Bobby gave you a couple of months back? I left mine at home."

Raising an eyebrow, Alex pulled out the knife, and tossed it to Carolyn. She turned back to Blake in time to see his smug grin had faltered just slightly.

"What are you going to do with that?"

Carolyn didn't answer him, but rather turned the blade over and over in her hands until Blake was utterly fixated on it. Only then did she speak again.

"Why the eyes, Darius? Why take the eyes?"

Blake swallowed hard. He could not tear his gaze away from the knife.

"They were pretty…"

"No, that's not it," Carolyn cut him off, still in that quiet, lulling tone. She paused, considering her next words with care. "They say the eyes are the windows to the soul. Is that what you were after, Darius? Is that why you started taking the eyes while your victims were still alive? You thought you could capture their souls?"

A dreamy sneer flitted across Blake's face.

"I _did_. I stole their souls. They're mine, now. I own them."

Carolyn nodded, keeping a poker face even though she was repulsed by the man cuffed to the chair.

"You must have been pretty pissed off that you missed out on Elliot's eyes, then."

Blake licked his lips.

"I was so close. Those fuckin' pigs ruined it."

She had no way of knowing if he was talking about his original assault on Elliot, or whatever had gone on over the last twenty-four hours. Deciding it was time to take a chance, she ploughed forward, working on the assumption that he meant Bobby and Mike.

"Well, Detectives Goren and Logan are good cops."

Blake laughed softly, a chilling sound that sent shudders through all three women.

"They're not that good. Especially not after I shot one, and gave the other a real headache."

It took Carolyn all her willpower to stay calm in the face of his taunts. Despite the deep, biting fear she felt, she spoke nonchalantly.

"If you think that would stop Bobby and Mike, then you're going to be very disappointed, Darius. They've gotten out of situations a lot worse than this. You're minor league, compared to what they've been through."

"Am I?" Blake hissed. "If they're so fucking good, then where are they? Huh? Where are they, you bitch?"

"We will find them Darius," Carolyn insisted, "with or without your help. And when we do, I can promise you one thing."

"Oh yeah? And what's that?"

"You'll never lay eyes on any of them… Elliot, especially… again."

She turned to walk away, and Blake gave a shriek of rage.

"You fucking bitch! I want his eyes! They're mine, I earned them!"

Carolyn looked back at him.

"You seriously think we'd even consider offering Elliot to you on a platter as a bribe to convince you to cooperate? You're even dumber than you look."

Blake laughed, and Carolyn felt a chill at how quickly he swung between placid and enraged.

"Trust me, sweetheart. Even if he's not dead yet, he's not gonna miss them."

An instant later, he hissed in pain as Alex came up behind him and grabbed his cuffed hands in a fierce grip.

"How'd you break your hand, Darius?"

"None of your fuckin' business."

Alex smirked.

"You broke it getting out of handcuffs, didn't you?" Releasing his hands, she walked around to stand beside Carolyn. "You know, I think I'm starting to get a picture of what really happened here. You tried to jump the guys, but they got the better of you. They got cuffs on you, didn't they?"

Blake scowled, and didn't answer. Encouraged by his silence, Alex ploughed onward.

"We found evidence that someone had been held prisoner in the bathroom, and we all thought it was Elliot… but it wasn't. It was _you_! They cuffed you, and locked you in, and they hightailed it out of here. I'm betting you'd only just got yourself loose when we arrived. So… I think they're still somewhere around here, just waiting until they know it's safe. I figure at least one of them must be hurt fairly badly, otherwise they would have taken your car. But you definitely don't have them stashed away somewhere." She smirked at him. "You probably don't even know where they are."

Turning, she sauntered away, giving every indication of confidence in her own assertions. Carolyn and Olivia joined her in heading for the door, each one fervently hoping that their bluff would work this time. They were not disappointed. The door was open and they were on their way through it when Blake's control finally broke and he screamed after them in a rage.

"You fucking bitches! You think you know everything? You don't know shit! Get the fuck back here!"

"Screw you, Blake," Alex threw back at him. "We know you're a lying sack of shit. We don't need to know anything more than that."

Blake twisted around in the chair as much as he was able, and his face was almost purple as he glared at the women.

"Am I? Am I, you fucking bitch? Why don't you go for a fuckin' walk then, about fifteen minutes south of here? But you might want to take a nice long rope, because it's a long fucking way down, especially in the dark."

Alex sucked in a sharp breath. She felt precious little pleasure in having wheedled the information out of Blake. Sharing a grim look with Olivia and Carolyn, they exited the room, leaving Blake to his insane ranting.

* * *

"Fifteen minutes south of here?" the ranger who had accompanied them echoed when Alex, Carolyn and Olivia rejoined their colleagues in the kitchen. He frowned as he bent over a map of the surrounding area, and then tapped a spot. "Here. I think I know the spot he was talking about. It's extremely unstable, and…" He trailed off, looking very worried all of a sudden.

"What is it?" Cragen pressed.

"There's a twenty… maybe even thirty foot drop there," the ranger admitted grimly.

"Oh god, Elliot," Olivia whispered in distress. Ross looked grimly at the ranger.

"What's the fastest way there?"

* * *

Blake could here them leaving, and it was all he could do to contain hysterical laughter. He had no doubt at all that they were all going to head straight for the place where Elliot had fallen.

Although his plan hadn't worked the way he'd wanted it too, thing were still working out positively for him, for what the cops didn't seem to know was that the other two cops had taken rescue equipment with them when they left him handcuffed to the bathtub. What they didn't know was that there was every likelihood that the three cops were no longer at the bottom of that drop.

He thought of that, and of the blonde bitch who had been so fucking cocky in guessing what had happened, and he couldn't help but laugh crazily to himself.

Darius Blake was by all definitions insane. However, he was also very intelligent and cunning, a combination that made him the dangerous man that he was. As soon as he'd learnt where Elliot had gone, the first thing he'd done was to go to the public library, get on a computer and search the internet for detailed maps of the area. He'd studied them intensely over the course of Friday night, after planting the head on the coffee table, and subsequently he was aware of the walking path that led to where Elliot had fallen.

He figured now that he had perhaps half an hour before those cops came back. All he needed was a fifteen… perhaps twenty minute head-start, that was all. Twenty minutes would be more than enough time to claim his prize, either from Elliot or from the Irish cop. The other big bastard would have to wait for another day, but so long as he could make a clean getaway, he was confident that day would come sooner rather than later.

Blake looked around awkwardly. There was one cop that had been left behind to guard him. Just one lousy cop, and a local hick at that. It took a serious effort not to start laughing again. It was almost _too_ easy. Affecting a pained look, he called out to his solitary guard.

"Hey, I need the bathroom."

The cop raised an eyebrow at him in mild amusement.

"Really."

"C'mon," Blake growled. "I need to take a piss! You want me to do it in my shorts?"

"Do you really want me to answer that?" the cop shot back. Rage flashed across Blake's face at the open rejection of his plea.

"I'll make a fucking complaint against you! It's cruel and inhumane, not letting me go to the bathroom! You want me to complain? I'll go to the fucking press if I have to!"

The cop sighed heavily, deciding it wasn't worth being screamed at by a lunatic.

"All right, keep your pants on," he growled. Walking around, he released one of Blake's hands from the cuffs, intending to let him stand up before re-cuffing him. A second was all Blake needed. He ripped free of the cop's grip, twisted around and grabbed him around the neck. He gave a single, ferocious jerk and twist, grunting in satisfaction at the ensuing snap. When he let go, the cop crumpled to the floor in a lifeless heap.

Retrieving the key, Blake freed himself from his cuffs and went to find a knife with which he could finally claim his prize.

* * *

_tbc..._


	16. Confrontation

They made quick progress along the path that the ranger had specified from the map. It was fortunately an easy trek, with no obvious hazards. The ranger led the way, with Olivia, Alex and Carolyn close behind, and the rest of their colleagues bringing up the rear.

"Just ahead," the ranger told them. "I'm certain this is the spot that your perp was talking about. Be careful, and don't get too close to that edge. We're on a soft shoulder here, and the ground is very unstable."

Silence reigned as the detectives spread out to search the area for any sign that their colleagues had been there.

"I've got a knife, here," Fin announced suddenly. "Looks like Blake's preferred choice, too. It's a big, ugly son of a bitch."

"And I've got blood over here," Ross spoke up.

"And a rope," Carolyn called out from where she'd walked further along. They headed over to where she stood, and sure enough there was a rope tied to a thick tree trunk, hanging over the

edge of the drop.

"This couldn't have been left here by Blake," Cragen said with a frown. "Not if our boys got the drop on him like we think."

"Blake said Elliot fell," Alex said tensely, aware of how pale Olivia was in the torchlight. "He never said Bobby and Mike fell. What if they left this rope here?"

"You're saying they might have climbed down to Elliot?" Ross wondered, and Alex nodded.

"That's exactly what I'm saying."

"That doesn't make sense, though," Fin argued. "We assume that they had Blake secured, at that point at least. They had his car… If Elliot went over here, why the hell didn't they just take Blake's car and go for help?"

"I can give you three reasons why they wouldn't have done that," Carolyn said grimly, "and two of them were provided by Blake. He said it himself, that he shot one, and probably left the other one badly concussed. Odds are that neither of them were thinking too clearly at the time."

"And the other reason they abandoned the logical choice?" Ross asked coolly. Alex and Carolyn exchanged glances, and Carolyn could see the anger in her friend's eyes. She went on calmly, silently pleading with Alex to stay cool.

"Because I can tell you right now that the only thing either them would have been thinking about was Elliot," Carolyn said firmly. "If Elliot went over the side here, all Bobby and Mike would have been thinking about was getting to him as fast as possible."

Alex had edged across and was leaning out over the edge of the drop while holding onto the branch of a nearby tree.

"Someone give me a torch."

"Be careful, Eames," Ross warned her as he handed her his torch. She nodded, and shone the powerful light down into the chasm.

"I can't see anyone," she announced finally, and wasn't sure whether to be disappointed or relieved. "There's no one down there. Not now."

"So Blake lied," Ross growled, but Carolyn shook her head, increasingly agitated as the truth of Blake's manipulations suddenly occurred to her.

"No, he didn't. That son of a bitch, he knew we wouldn't find them here. He _knew_ they wouldn't be down there. That's why he gave up this location! He wanted to buy himself time!"

Stunned silence fell across the group as they stared at each other. Then, the local sheriff who had accompanied them pulled out his radio.

"Andrews, give me a sit-rep, now!"

But there was nothing but static on the other end. Cragen whirled around to confront the ranger.

"Is there another way down there? A path?"

"Well, yes," stammered the ranger, "but it takes over an hour to walk, even fully fit."

"And Goren and Logan have had possibly hours to find a way to get Elliot out of there," Cragen said tensely. "Blake played us. He's loose, and he's gone after them again. We need to get back, _now_!"

All of them took off back towards the cabin, with Olivia, Alex and Carolyn leading the way.

* * *

They arrived back at the cabin to find the place chaos. Two local officers were dead, one seriously injured after being stabbed in the gut, and the fourth officer was in a state of near panic. Blake, not surprisingly, was gone.

"Son of a bitch!" Cragen exploded as the sheriff tried to calm his remaining uninjured officer, as well as see to the wounded man. "What the hell happened?"

"Wilson…" the injured officer managed to choke out. "Stupid idiot… fell for the 'I've gotta go to the bathroom' line. Blake snapped his neck, then came after the rest of us. He… He's gone after your three guys. He looked like he knew exactly where he was going."

"He knew all along where to find them," Ross growled. He turned, his sharp eyes quickly locating the ranger. "Where is this other path?"

"Go out the outer kitchen door," the ranger told him, "and it's right there. Leads into the forest…"

He trailed off very abruptly as a not-so-distant scream of pain suddenly shattered the deathly stillness.

"Mike," Alex whispered in horror. "That was Mike! I'm sure it was!"

"And it sounded damned close, too," Cragen growled. "Hey, wait!"

It was too late, though. Alex, Carolyn and Olivia had already taken off, too intent on reaching Elliot, Mike and Bobby to stop and think about the risk.

"Damn it!" Ross exploded as he checked his weapon. "We have to go, _now_! If they run into Blake, God only knows what might happen."

"Yeah," Munch retorted. "They might kill the son of a bitch. What a shame that would be."

Cragen glared at him.

"Not helpful, John."

"Tim," the sheriff said quickly, "stay here with my boys, would you?"

The ranger nodded in compliance.

"I'll radio for a Med-Evac chopper," he offered. "I get the feeling we're going to need it for those other cops, as well."

The men then hurried out of the cabin, in hot pursuit of their female colleagues.

* * *

Bobby had walked perhaps half a dozen steps before he realised that Mike had stopped. He turned slowly, trying to focus rapidly blurring eyes on his brother.

"Mike? What's wrong?"

"Thought I saw a… a light," Mike mumbled. "Up there somewhere."

Bobby glanced up, but as far as he could tell there was nothing to be seen.

"Nothing there, Mikey. C'mon. We've got to keep going."

Mike, however, didn't move.

"No, Bobby. I heard a chopper before, and I saw a light just now. I know I did. What if it's help?"

"And what if it's not?"

That brought Mike up short, and he stared at Bobby with a sinking feeling.

"Blake? You think it might be Blake? We left him handcuffed in the bathroom, Bobby. You do remember that, don't you?"

"Yes, I remember that," Bobby muttered, gingerly rubbing at the back of his neck. "But how long have we been out here now? Hours? The man is psychotic, and he's turned on by pain… even his own. I wouldn't put it past him to break his own hands to get out of those cuffs… and if he does that, there's nothing to keep him in there."

Mike sighed.

"You're just all sunshine and happiness, aren't you?"

"Sorry, Mike. I believe you saw a light up there, but we just can't know for sure who it is. It's not worth risking our lives to find out, either. Is it?"

"No," Mike agreed with reluctance. "No, it's not. Damn it…"

"Let's just keep going," Bobby murmured tiredly.

"Do you know how far it is?" Mike wondered, and Bobby sighed softly.

"No. Sorry."

"It's okay," Mike murmured. At that, Bobby slowed to a halt.

"No… No, it's not. It's not okay. None of it is!"

Concerned by the distress he heard in his brother's voice, Mike set the travois down carefully and stepped over to where Bobby stood.

"Bobby, don't do this. Please, not now."

Bobby stared at Mike in visible distress.

"I… I can't…"

"You can't what?"

And suddenly, Bobby's knees buckled and he went down. Mike dove forward, wrapping his arms around Bobby's upper body, going down with him in an effort to break his fall.

"No," Mike whispered hoarsely. "Bobby, no, don't do this to me. C'mon, baby brother…"

Bobby slumped heavily against Mike, head lolling against his brother's shoulder. In the artificial torchlight, Mike could make out the discolouration that was spreading across Bobby's temple and head, and the blood that was trickling steadily from his nostrils, as well as from his ear.

He had gone as far as he could, Mike realised in dismay. Bobby would be going no further under his own steam.

"Just hang on a little longer, please," Mike begged him, even though he wasn't so sure that Bobby could even hear him now. "Please, baby brother, don't give up on me…"

He held Bobby to him with tender care, barely aware of the tears that stung his own eyes. How long he knelt there for, cradling his brother to him, he didn't know. All he knew was a growing despair as he gradually came to realise that they were not going to make it. Tears filled his eyes, and his shoulders shook with ill-suppressed sobs as grief and despair took over. He had tried… He'd tried so damned hard but it was all for nothing.

"Look at that. How fuckin' sweet."

Mike froze, and then looked around to see a new figure standing there, illuminated by the torchlight. Darius Blake…

"Comforting your lover boy there, you fuckin' fag?" Blake snarled.

In that moment, the despair was gone, to be replaced with a white hot rage. Taking care to lower Bobby gently to the ground, Mike turned back to face Blake.

"C'mon," Blake hissed. "Bring it on, pig."

Mike didn't yell, didn't scream, and he didn't lose control. Instead, he dropped one hand to the ground where he crouched, and felt his fingers close around a smooth, round stone. He waited with a patience that he hadn't known he possessed and watched as Blake advanced. He waited until the last possible moment, when Blake was almost on top of him, before lifting the stone and throwing it as hard as his injuries would allow.

It was a good throw, striking Blake right smack in the middle of his forehead. The killer staggered, stunned by the unexpected blow, but he didn't fall. He lurched unsteadily towards Mike, and tackled him with an angry snarl.

Mike grunted as he fell backwards over Bobby's unmoving form. His head struck the ground and he felt sharp pain as his teeth clicked together over his tongue, followed by the metallic taste of blood in his mouth.

He barely had time to register the pain as he struggled to push Blake off him. The killer was in a blind rage, punching and clawing at Mike with one hand while slashing the knife at him with the other. Mike barely felt it, though. He fought back hard, his moves powered by adrenalin and sheer desperation.

In his mind's eyes, Mike no longer saw Darius Blake, but rather Richie Goren, whose hunger for money and power had nearly killed both him and Bobby. He saw Richie's leering face, and his own anger finally boiled over. Blake grunted in surprise as Mike suddenly threw him off, and then literally jumped on top of him, fists swinging with a wild fury.

"You psychotic bastard!" Mike exploded. "Why can't you leave us alone? We're just trying to have a fucking vacation!"

His fist found a target in Blake's nose, breaking it decisively. While Blake was still recovering from the shock of that blow, Mike grabbed Blake's wrist in an effort to force him to let go of the knife.

A snarl escaped Blake, and he jammed his knee up into Mike's ribs, where he'd taken the buckshot. Mike groaned in pain and momentarily lost his tenuous grip on the killer. In the next instant, he found himself flipped over, and Blake was suddenly on top of him once more.

The knife came down again, and Mike instinctively lifted his arm to shield his face. Seconds later, his groan of pain turned into a scream as the blade plunged into his forearm. Blake wasted not a second. He threw his weight forward, pinning Mike's arms to the ground and jamming his left hand against Mike's forehead to hold his head still.

"I'm taking your eyes, Irish piggie," Blake rasped as he wiped the blade clean on his pants leg. "Pretty green eyes. Are you ready to give me your soul?"

Mike gasped and tried to buck Blake off, but the killer wouldn't be dislodged from his perch. He jammed his knees down, pushing Mike harder into the ground, and drew a thin, bloody line with the knife along the base of Mike's throat.

"Gonna cut your throat, little piggie. But first I'm gonna have me those beautiful green eyes. Just hold still, this'll hardly hurt at all…"

Mike saw the knife descending towards his face and tried twisting away, but Blake held him fast. Then, just as the knife was millimetres away from his left eyes, Mike caught sight of movement in his peripheral vision. He barely had time to think '_Bobby_' before another figure collided into Blake, sending the killer crashing to the ground.

Shaken, Mike started up, and froze in momentary shock. Bobby was, indeed, stirring again, but he was still only on his hands and knees some feet away. Which meant…

Twisting around, Mike's eyes widened at the sight of Elliot struggling with Blake. He had one hand and one leg out of action, but his visible fury was easily making up for the lack of usable limbs.

Picking himself up with some difficulty, and trying to ignore the burning pain in his arm, Mike threw himself back into the fray, determined to end it once and for all.

"You can't stop me," Blake crowed in between hysterical giggles that sent chills down both Mike and Elliot's spines. "Gonna kill you. Gonna kill all of you. Gonna have your eyes, Elliot, gonna take 'em and eat 'em so you'll always be with me…"

"Shut the fuck up, you sick son of a bitch!" Mike growled as, between him and Elliot, they managed to finally pin Blake down. Blake looked wildly from one man to the other.

"You put me back in prison, and I'll get out again. I'll come for you. I'll come for both of you. I want your eyes and your souls. They're mine, and I'll have them sooner or later, you'll see. You'll never be free of me. You'll always be looking for me over your shoulder. Every day, you'll wake up and you'll wonder, is this the day he'll come for me? You'll always…"

Blake's rant ended mid-sentence as a good-sized rock slammed into the side of his head, knocking him out cold. Both Mike and Elliot looked up in surprise to see Bobby kneeling there, dazed but awake.

"Bastard was giving me a headache," he mumbled as he sat down on the cold ground with a thud. Abandoning his position of holding Blake down, Mike pulled Bobby to him in a fierce embrace.

"Thought you were a goner, baby brother."

"Nah," Bobby answered weakly. "You don't get rid of me that… that easy."

Their embrace was interrupted only by a soft, weak voice that spoke with a distinct tremor.

"I… I'm…"

Mike looked around, and found Elliot's guilt-riddled features staring back at them.

"Don't," Mike warned him with a slight frown. "Don't you dare say you're sorry, Elliot. Not after you just saved me from losing my eyes to that psycho. C'mere…"

And suddenly, Elliot found himself caught up in a three-way hug. He sat rigid for a moment before relaxing and surrendering to the collective embrace.

"Hate to spoil the moment," Elliot whispered as Mike finally released both him and Bobby, "but I still can't walk."

Mike squeezed his shoulder very gently.

"Elliot, I'll carry you on my back, if I have to. Don't you worry about it, pal."

"Mikey, I don't think you'll have to," Bobby said, relief evident in his voice. "Look…"

Both Mike and Elliot looked, and saw what Bobby had just spotted. Coming towards them through the darkness were three distinct torch lights.

"Are we agreed that it's highly unlikely that that's another lunatic wanting to kill us?" Mike asked, and Bobby smiled weakly.

"Agreed."

Nodding, Mike gathered what remained of his strength and called out to the newcomers.

"We're over here!"

"Mike? Is that you?"

Both Mike and Bobby wept at the sound of Carolyn's voice. Slowly, three figures emerged out of the darkness. Olivia got there first, her longer legs giving her an edge on Alex and Carolyn.

"Elliot? Oh god, look at you," Olivia choked out as she dropped to the ground beside him. He reached up weakly, and she quickly grasped his hand in hers, kissing it softly.

"M'okay," he told her, even as he struggled to stay conscious. "Mikey… and Bobby… saved me…"

And then he was out again, exhaustion overtaking him. Olivia paused, watching to ensure that he was breathing without difficulties, before looking around. She was quietly amazed at the sight that greeted her. Alex had taken a battered and bloodied Mike in her arms, while Carolyn was cradling Bobby. She must have missed something, she mused. She could have sworn the pairings went the other way – Alex with Bobby, and Carolyn with Mike.

"How do we get them back to the cabin?" Olivia asked. "I don't think any of them are walking any further than this."

"We need to let the others know where we are," Carolyn said. "Any ideas on how to do that?"

"This is how," Alex said. She pulled out her gun, aimed at a distant tree and fired twice. Then, she slipped her arm back around Mike, who sighed with relief at her touch. A moment beyond that, though, he felt her hands patting gently over his body, searching for injuries. He closed his hand over hers, gazing up at her wearily, his eyes bright with pain.

"Don't, Alex. I… I'll be okay. Just scratches and bruises."

"Mike…"

He tightened his grip fractionally on her hand.

"Please, baby. Just hold me?"

Swallowing the sob that hitched in her chest, she hugged him to her as tightly as she dared.

A short distance away, Carolyn cradled Bobby to her, tears brimming in her eyes as she looked over his head wound. At a glance, even in the dim light, she could see what Mike had suspected.

"I know," Bobby whispered weakly, struggling to focus on her face. Carolyn regarded him worriedly.

"What do you know?"

"My head… Not good."

Carolyn pressed a feather-light kiss to his forehead.

"No, honey, it's not good, but it's gonna be okay. We've got you now. You're safe, Bobby. You're all safe."

"You want us to be safe," Mike croaked out, "then shoot that asshole in the friggin' head."

"Don't worry about him, Mike," Alex assured him. "That son of a bitch will never see the light of day again after this."

"He was going to cut out my eyes," Mike said, and his voice took on a distinct tremor as he remembered the stark fear of watching that knife descending towards his face. "He would have, too… except for Elliot. He… He saved my life."

Alex hugged him again, while glaring at Blake's unmoving form.

"He'll get the death penalty for this, Mike. None of you have to worry anymore."

"They're coming," Olivia announced suddenly, and both Alex and Carolyn looked up to see lights appearing through the trees.

"Over here!" Alex called out. "We found them!"

Familiar figures emerged into the area; Cragen, Ross, Fin, Munch and the local sheriff.

"For the love of all things sacred," Cragen groaned as they got an eyeful of their wounded colleagues. "Look at the three of you!"

Mike grunted.

"Hey… Donnie… What t… took you so long?"

Cragen couldn't quite suppress a smirk.

"Don't smart mouth me, Mikey, or I'll leave your sorry ass right here."

"You wanna go ahead and try… My girlfriend'll have your ass in a sling."

Ross walked over and dropped into a crouch beside Mike, smiling wryly at his detective.

"And you were worried about poison ivy."

Mike groaned aloud at Ross's obvious amusement.

"Gimme a break, I'm in pain here."

The smile on Ross's face faded at that admission.

"I'm not surprised," he murmured as he looked at Mike's blood-soaked side. "Did he shoot you?"

"He tried," Mike admitted. "I caught some buckshot when Blake fired at me and Bobby. Seriously, no wonder the guy uses a knife. He's a friggin' lousy shot. Not that I'm complaining, mind you…"

"Barek?" Ross asked, turning his attention to Bobby. "How is he?"

"He's not good, Captain," Carolyn answered in a strained voice. It was painfully obvious that she was trying to control her fear. "He needs medical attention."

"They all do," Ross agreed. He looked around at Cragen. "Don, the Med-Evac chopper shouldn't be too far away. I think a few of us should head back to meet them, and guide them down here. The sooner we get them off this mountain and back home to New York, the happier I'll be."

"You and us both, Captain," Mike mumbled wearily. Cragen nodded his agreement.

"Good idea, Danny. Fin? Would you go?"

"Sure, Captain," Fin murmured, although he seemed reluctant to leave Elliot's side.

"What about that son of a bitch?" Olivia asked bitterly, nodding towards Blake. Munch walked over to where Blake lay and crouched beside him, checking automatically for a pulse. A moment later, he looked back up at them worriedly.

"Ah… We might have a problem, people. Mr Blake is just a little bit… you know… _dead_."

"Dead?" Cragen burst out incredulously. "How the hell did that happen?"

"Blunt force trauma, maybe," Ross mused as he strode over to get a closer look. "It looks like he took a hell of a hit to the head, square on the right temple."

Cragen looked back to Mike, who was the only one of the three who was still conscious and coherent.

"Mike? You want to tell us what happened?"

Mike stared unblinkingly at Cragen.

"We saved ourselves," he answered quietly. "We used what we had to save ourselves."

"And that's it?" Cragen asked sceptically. Mike frowned.

"What do you want me to say, Donnie? You want me to say we conspired to ambush him and kill him? For God's sake, look at us! Elliot's barely been conscious most of the time… Bobby could barely think straight after being clubbed in the head _twice_, and what the hell could I do? We defended ourselves, no more, no less."

"IAB is going to want to investigate this…" Ross started to say, and Mike let out an angry noise in response.

"So then Blake becomes the victim? And we're the suspects? _Look at us_, Captain! He was going to kill us! He wanted to cut out mine and Elliot's eyes, and God only knows what he had planned for Bobby! No, we didn't mean to kill him, but I'm not sorry he's dead, either. We are not going down over that bastard's death, Captain. Not after what he did to us… for what he was going to do to us. He can't hurt us now… He can't hurt Elliot now, and I'm not going to be sorry about that."

Ross couldn't resist a smile. Just six months ago, he would have been seriously pissed off at Mike's outburst. Now, though, he found it strangely comforting to know the detective was so willing to come to the defence of his companions.

"Relax, Logan," he said. "As I was saying, it'll be investigated, and I know you'll be cleared. All of you, including whichever of you it was that struck the killing blow. Whatever happened, however it played out, I think it was a pretty clear cut case of self defence."

"Well, that's what it was," Mike mumbled, visibly thrown by Ross's words.

"It's okay, Logan," Ross told him quietly. "I've got your backs. Don't worry."

Mike looked back at Ross, puzzled, but the captain only clapped him lightly on the shoulder and stood up again.

"Sheriff? Detective Tutuola? Shall we head back to meet the Med-Evac chopper?"

They went, leaving Cragen, Munch and the women behind to wait with the wounded men.

"What the hell is this…?"

All eyes turned at Cragen's startled question. He had just discovered the makeshift travois. Mike shifted uncomfortably in Alex's arms, feeling suddenly as though he'd done something wrong.

"We couldn't just sit around at the bottom of that cliff, but Bobby wasn't up to helping carry Elliot on the stretcher, so I kind of mutilated it so it only needed one person to pull it."

"_You_ did that?" Cragen asked incredulously. "You turned a stretcher into a travois? Damn, Mikey…"

"Wasn't leaving him behind," Mike mumbled, even as shock and exhaustion finally began to catch up with him. "I won't… leave behind my… brother…"

Alex hugged him to her as he finally gave in and slipped into unconsciousness.

"We know, baby. We know you won't."

The Med-Evac chopper had arrived by the time that Ross, Fin and the sheriff got back to the cabin, and they were greeted by a team of medics. Within fifteen minutes, they were back down the path, and back to where their colleagues waited.

There, for the next several minutes, they were all pushed aside while Elliot, Mike and Bobby all received the medical treatment that they so desperately needed.

"Captain?"

Ross glanced sideways as Alex stepped up to stand next to him.

"What is it, Eames?"

"I need to know, sir. Did you mean it? What you said to Mike, I mean."

Ross didn't need to ask what she was talking about. He already knew.

"I meant it," he confirmed. "They've got my support. None of this was their fault, and anyone who can't see that is a fool. Frankly, I'm impressed with their ingenuity. Especially Logan's."

Alex sighed, finally relaxing.

"Thankyou, sir."

"They're ready to move them," Cragen announced as he joined them.

"Do they need help with the stretchers?" Ross wondered, and Cragen nodded. Ross promptly walked over to where Bobby lay strapped into one of the four stretchers, and joined one of the medics in helping to lift him up. Then, together, they all began the trek back to the cabin.

* * *

_tbc..._


	17. Safe At Last

Despite everything, despite his injuries and the fact that he should have been completely out for the count, Elliot was aware - at least on a superficial level - as he was carried out of the forest. Olivia's voice registered somewhere in his fragmented mind, telling him that he was going to be okay.

He believed her - he had no reason not to.

As he was lifted into the waiting chopper, he caught a glimpse of Mike nearby. Bobby was out of his line of sight but he could see Carolyn, and that reassured him that Bobby, too, was there. None of them had been left behind.

Tears burned his eyes. Bobby and Mike had had ample opportunity to leave him and save themselves, and yet they had risked their lives to help him. It was something that he would never forget, or be able to repay. That was okay, though, because he knew without a doubt, that neither of them would ever expect him to.

The knowledge would remain, though, and Elliot knew that from that moment on, if either Bobby or Mike ever needed help of any sort. He would be right there for them in a heartbeat.

A smile touched his lips, despite the pain he was in. He'd not been abandoned, and no words could describe how good that really felt.

* * *

"Is Elliot smiling?" Cragen asked incredulously as he peered down at his injured detective. Olivia paused, gazing down at her battered partner.

"I think so. I guess the pain medication must be kicking in."

Cragen grunted, but didn't comment further. Across the way, Ross looked from Mike to Bobby in bemusement, wondering at how he could feel equal amounts of pride and annoyance with his two detectives.

They had done themselves proud, that was clear - both in the way they'd handled a horrifying situation, and in the way they had clearly stuck by Elliot Stabler. Of course, none of them would know the whole story until at least one of the men was coherent enough to tell them, but going by Mike's stilted words earlier, and by what they'd discovered on the path, it was obvious that there had been a great deal of courage on display.

What had Mike said? He would never leave his brother behind. Somehow, Ross knew without a doubt that Mike was talking about Elliot when he said that. Somehow, at some point over the weekend, Bobby and Mike's relationship with Elliot Stabler had surpassed friendship, and reached the status of brotherhood. That was a bond that would not be easily broken, and Ross was confident that he would never need to remind either Mike or Bobby about how fortunate they were to have found that level of comradeship.

Given what he knew they had already been through together, he didn't doubt that they already knew.

With a small smile adorning his own face, Ross settled back in his seat, quietly confident that all three men were going to be okay.

* * *

The first thing that Elliot became aware of again was the irritating glare of fluorescent lights as they burned his retinas. He groaned and shut his eyes again against the discomfort they caused him.

"Elliot? What is it? Are you in pain?"

Probably, a distant part of his brain acknowledged. However, right then he was more bothered by the lights, and tried to say as much. In the end, though, he could only get out one word.

"Lights..."

Thankfully, garbled though it was, the message somehow made it across and the lights were dimmed sufficiently to enable him to open his eyes again without suffering that god-awful burn. As his vision cleared, he nearly wept at the sight of Olivia, hovering at his side.

"Liv..."

She reached down to close her hand lightly over his, and smiled tearfully.

"You have no idea how grateful I am to see you awake."

Her words registered in his still-fuzzy brain, and he wondered how long he'd been out.

"You've been unconscious for five days, Elliot," Olivia told him, easily guessing what he was thinking. He flinched a little at the revelation, and Olivia hastened to reassure him.

"Don't panic, Elliot. The doctors had you in an induced coma for three days, until you stabilized. You're going to be okay, I promise."

Slowly, ever so slowly, he began to relax. If Olivia told him he was going to be okay, then he would be. He had no reason not to believe her. Gradually, his thoughts shifted from his own hurts and discomfort, to others, and he struggled to voice his concerns to his partner.

"Mike... Bobby..."

It seemed all he could manage at the moment were one word sentences, but bless his beautiful partner - she knew exactly what he was trying to say.

"They're going to be all right," she reassured him. "Mike just has mainly cuts and bruises, and he's a bit battered from fighting Blake. Bobby had a fractured skull, but it wasn't as bad as everyone thought. They'll be in the hospital for around a week. You, on the other hand, have a longer stay to look forward to."

Elliot sighed wearily. He was less bothered by that than he figured he ought to be. Somehow, though, the prospect of a prolonged hospital stay seemed an insignificant concern compared to the relief he felt at the revelation that Bobby and Mike were both all right.

With that reassurance, though, came a fresh worry. Before he had a chance to even contemplate asking, though, Olivia spoke again.

"Blake is dead, Elliot. He was dead when we got to you."

She didn't divulge the cause of Blake's death. In the last few days, much had happened. Specifically, Bobby had confessed to hitting Blake in the head with a rock to subdue him, and possibly the swiftest investigation in IAB history had cleared him of any wrongdoing. It was, as Ross had said that night on the mountain, a clear-cut case of self defence. IAB had rule justifiable homicide, and cleared Bobby completely.

For his part, Elliot took the news silently and emotionlessly. He felt no remorse, only relief. Blake would never be a threat to anyone ever again.

He was barely aware that he was weeping until Olivia reached down to gently wipe the tears from his cheeks.

"You're safe, Elliot," she told him softly. "He'll never hurt you again."

"Or anyone else," Elliot mumbled through numb lips and a swollen tongue. His thoughts then were with Bobby and Mike, knowing full well what horrific acts Blake would have perpetrated on them if things had gone badly.

"Or anyone else," Olivia confirmed. "God, Elliot, promise you'll never do anything like this again."

He would have grimaced if his face didn't hurt so much. As much as he wished he could make that promise, he knew it was futile, and so did she.

"I know," Olivia said with a sigh. "I know."

"Hey, he's awake?"

She looked around to see Fin entering the room, and she smiled. It was the first time she' felt like smiling for some time.

"Hey, Elliot," Fin greeted him. "Looking good, pal."

Elliot grunted.

"Liar."

Fin, however, shook his head seriously.

"You're alive. Trust me, right now, you couldn't possibly look any better to us than that."

Elliot supposed he could concede to that, and as much as he hurt, he was alive and that felt pretty damned good.

* * *

"Elliot's awake," Alex announced as she walked into Bobby and Mike's shared room. It had been with some consternation that the hospital had given them a room together, given their antics during their previous hospital stay - the nurses had long memories, and were justifiably mistrustful. The boys had sworn to be on their best behaviour, though, and had stayed true to their word.

It also helped that neither had the energy to move from their beds, let alone pull any stunts.

"That's good news," Mike murmured with a sigh of relief, and Bobby nodded his agreement.

"Yeah."

"Any chance of getting in to see him?" Mike wondered, but Alex shook her head.

"Not yet. Maybe in a couple of days, according to his doctor. He's only just woken up, and they don't want to overload him."

"Fair enough," Bobby conceded. "I hope we don't have to wait too long, though. He needs to know that nothing that happened was his fault."

"Yeah," Mike agreed. "We want to make sure he knows that."

"I'd like to say he won't," Carolyn mused, "but I think we all know better than that. He's going to feel responsible, regardless. I just hope you boys are up to convincing him otherwise."

Bobby and Mike exchanged wry smiles. Oh, they were up to it, and then some. One way or another, Elliot was going to understand that he had no reason to harbor any guilt over what had happened.

Alex and Carolyn exchanged worried looks. They knew those furtive grins only too well, and knew it spelt trouble. Alex leaned in, and spoke in a threatening voice.

"If you clowns even think about taking Elliot on the lam before he's given the all-clear from his doctor, we will let Olivia do whatever she likes to you. Am I making myself clear?"

"Chill, Alex," Mike assured her with a warm, if somewhat amused smile. "We won't do anything like that, we swear it."

Alex snorted loudly and derisively.

"Like we haven't heard that before."

* * *

Elliot was feeling utterly and completely morose. Olivia had finally been kicked out of his hospital room, leaving him alone with his thoughts. It was very much the wrong thing to do.

Now, he lay wide awake in the semi-dark room, unable to sleep for the nightmares that plagued him. Whenever he closed his eyes, he could see Blake's face, grinning madly at him. Worse, though, where the nightmarish trails his mind followed when he thought about what could have happened to Mike and Bobby.

He'd had no right to put either man at risk in the way that he had, and he knew no apology would ever be enough.

"Oh, I know that look."

A first, Elliot thought he was imagining Mike's voice, until he finally looked towards the door, and saw both brothers coming in, one after the other.

Bobby peered around Mike, and nodded sagely.

"Nothing like a hefty dose of guilt to keep you awake at night."

"What are you two doing here?" Elliot asked hoarsely. "The nurses will have your asses Ina sling of they catch you out of bed."

"Nah," Mike said cheerfully. "They're used to us pulling this sort of shit. I think they kinda of expect it now, and we wouldn't want to disappoint them. Right, Bobby?"

Bobby smirked as he dropped into one of the chairs beside Elliot's bed.

"Right, Mikey."

"Listen," Elliot said hoarsely, "I am so sorry... Ow!" He helped as Mike reached over and whacked him lightly across the back of his head. "What the hell did you do that for?"

"What did I say?" Mike demanded. "Out on that friggin' trail, after we finally stopped Blake, what did I say to you?"

Elliot stared at him blankly, too taken aback by Mike's unexpected reaction to make a coherent response.

"I think you should take pity on him, Mikey," Bobby said lightly. "In his defence, he was more than a little out of it at the time."

"I barely remember anything that went on," Elliot admitted. "The last thing I clearly remember is when you guys jumped Blake and saved my ass. What happened? No one who's come to see me will say. I think they think I'm gonna flip."

"You fell, Elliot," Bobby told him soberly. "You fell thirty feet. We thought you were going to die."

Elliot uttered a short , guttural bark of laughter.

"That would have pissed Blake off."

"Oh, it did," Bobby agreed with a wry smile. "But believe me when I say we would rather it not have happened."

Elliot nodded.

"We could have gotten right off that mountain if it hadn't been for that... Ow, goddamn it, Mike..."

Mike leaned back after slapping Elliot across the back of the head once again.

"You keep ding that, and he's going to sic Olivia onto you," Bobby advised amusedly.

"I don't care," Mike said. "I'll keep doing it until he stops being a friggin' idiot. Do you really think that was why we were upset at you falling, Elliot? It hasn't occurred to you that maybe we were worried about you? That we didn't want you to die? Because seriously, pal, if getting off that mountain was our only concern, we would have done it and left you behind. It would have been perfectly reasonable for us to assume you were dead. Yes, we wanted off the mountain. No, we weren't going without you. So get it through your thick head - you're our friend and we don't abandon our friends. What happened wasn't your fault, so quit thinking it was."

Elliot's breath came in short gulps as he slowly began to really take in Mike's words. There was one scenario, though, that he had to throw out there.

"But if I hadn't come with you..."

"You would quite possibly be dead," Bobby interrupted. Elliot stared at him in confusion, and Bobby elaborated quietly.

"Think about it, Elliot. You would have been at home when Blake came calling. With the state of mind you were in at the start of the weekend, there's every chance he would have caught you completely unprepared. Even if you were found before he killed you, he still would have done serious damage. But you weren't on your own, you were with us, and because we were isolated, he got cocky and thought he had time to play around. It gave us time to think things through. Yes, we were all hurt. Yes, we wish it hadn't gone like that, but you know what? Despite how I acted to start with, I'm grateful now that Mike asked you to join us, because it meant you weren't on your own, and you had friends to back you up."

"Thank you," Elliot whispered, barely able to speak for the lump in his throat. Bobby reached down and laid a hand oh-so-lightly on Elliot's shoulder.

"You're welcome. Now, hurry the hell up and get well, so we can sneak you out of this hell-hole for coffee and a bagel."

Elliot uttered a short, sharp laugh.

"Isn't that the stunt that got you guys handcuffed to your hospital beds once?"

Mike grinned wickedly.

"Oh yeah. And contrary to popular opinion, it was worth it for the coffee fix."

"Only because we'd been deprived of it the whole time we were in the hospital," Bobby pointed out.

"You thought so too," Mike accused, to which Bobby reluctantly capitulated.

"Yeah, I did."

Elliot sighed tiredly.

"Man, that would have been fun."

"Heal up quick, pal," Mike told him, "and we'll make it a terrible trio instead of a deadly duo."

"That's awful, Mikey," Elliot groaned, only to falter at the memories of Mike's previous negative reactions to the nickname. Mike, however, was only grinng.

"Now you're catching on."

Elliot looked up at him quizzically.

"Does that mean I have permission?"

"Yeah, pal," Mike confirmed warmly. "You definitely have permission."

* * *

"You two really can't help yourselves, can you?"

Bobby and Mike exchanged weary looks as they arrived back at their hospital room to find Ross standing there waiting for them.

"Captain?" Bobby asked in confusion. "What are you doing here? It's nearly midnight!"

"Honestly?" Ross said with a wry smile. "I couldn't get past the duty nurse earlier this evening. She went on with some crap about strict visiting guidelines, and not bending them for anyone. So here I am, at midnight. Though, I have to admit, even though I've heard all of the stories, I really didn't expect to get here to find you gone."

"Well," Mike said as he eased himself back into bed, "can I just thank you on behalf of us both for not alerting the nurses to our absence? We don't really feel like that sort of trouble tonight."

"No problem. Where were you both, if you don't mind me asking?"

"Talking to Elliot Stabler," Bobby answered. "Just like you couldn't get in to see us this evening, they haven't let us go anywhere near Elliot since we arrived here. We needed to see him, so we snuck out of our rooms tonight, when there was a skeleton staff on the ward."

Ross couldn't help the grin that crept onto his face. He knew how frustrated Goren and Logan had been by the hospital staff's refusal to let them visit Stabler. It seemed they had finally lost patience and taken matters in hand.

"Nice. Well, you'll see no objections from me, as long as you don't even contemplate going AWOL from the hospital just for coffee. I'll sneak it in for you myself if I have to."

Bobby and Mike both laughed, much to Ross's gratification.

"How is Stabler?" he asked.

"He'll be okay," Bobby answered thoughtfully. "I don't just mean physically, either. He wasn't doing so great when we went in to see him, but I think we managed to convince him he doesn't have anything to be sorry for, or guilty over. Uh... You probably ought to know that we're not planning to go AWOL from the hospital while we're here, but once we're out of here..."

Ross lifted an eyebrow.

"Yes?"

Mike spoke with a grin.

"We promised to kidnap Elliot and take him for coffee and a bagel."

"You might want to clue Olivia Benson in on that," Ross mused, "if you value your manhoods. I guarantee she'll castrate the both of you if you pull a stunt like that and leave her in the dark."

"He's right," Bobby confirmed ruefully. "She'd do it, too."

"We'll let her know," Mike said. "Despite popular opinion, we did actually learn our lesson after the last time. When we say we're going to kidnap him, I guarantee it'll be with the full knowledge of the hospital staff, as soon as Elliot's up to it. So, that said, what are you really here for? Because somehow I doubt it's just a casual visit. Otherwise, it could have waited until tomorrow."

"True," Ross admitted. "I did want to speak to you both, preferably without anyone else around."

"Oh boy, here it comes," Mike muttered. Ross fired an annoyed look at the detective.

"Don't be an ass, Logan. You don't even know what I'm going to say."

Mike had the grace to look embarrassed.

"Sorry."

Ross nodded, pacified.

"What I was going to say was that I'm proud of the both of you. Not only did you stick together, you stood by Elliot Stabler at a time when he really needed it. I'm sorry to say that I know plenty of cops who would've cut and run, to save their own skins. You two didn't do that, and I admire and respect you for it."

"We appreciate the sentiment, Captain," Bobby said, "but it isn't necessary. There was no way we were ever going to leave Elliot behind, whatever happened."

"That sort of loyalty isn't quite as common as people think," Ross said. "You two might be proverbial pains in the ass, but you set the bar pretty high. What I'm trying to say is I'm glad you're both in my squad."

Mike and Bobby exchanged surreptitious looks, barely able to conceal their collective surprise.

"Thank you, Captain," Bobby said finally. Ross's eyes glinted.

"I'd like to ask you to reassure me that you won't get into trouble like this again, but somehow I suspect that's a vain hope. So what I am going to ask is to keep looking out for each other."

Mike answered, and Bobby nodded in wordless agreement.

"You can count on it, sir."

* * *

_To be continued..._


	18. Epilogue

When Mike and Bobby had promised to 'kidnap' him for coffee and a bagel, Elliot hadn't really taken them seriously. He appreciated the sentiment but he did honestly believe it was something that was not meant to be taken seriously. In the end, he knew better than to expect their solidarity and friendship to extend beyond the hospital boundaries.

Therefore, it was safe to say that he was more than a little surprised when, two days before he was scheduled to be discharged from the hospital, Bobby and Mike turned up with a wheelchair and identical devious grins.

"What's going on?" Elliot asked in confusion as Bobby urged him out of bed, into his dressing gown and into the waiting wheelchair. "Is there an evacuation? What's wrong?"

"You remember how we said we were going to kidnap you for coffee?" Mike asked as he wheeled Elliot out the door.

"Yeah, but..."

"Well, this is us, kidnapping you for coffee. Sorry we had to wait until now to do it, though. We kind of had to make sure your partner was clued in on it. Like Captain Ross said, she'd castrate us both if we didn't. We take warnings like that seriously, especially where your partner is involved. She is one scary cop."

Elliot couldn't suppress a grin of his own at that.

"Yeah," he agreed. "She is pretty scary, but I wouldn't want her any other way."

Mike and Bobby exchanged glances, and Mike nudged Elliot's shoulder gently.

"So, have you had the talk, yet? You and Olivia?"

Elliot smiled more widely.

"Yeah, yesterday, as a matter of fact. We decided that we're going to give it a try, but we're going to take it slowly. Neither of us wants to risk our partnership. But there's something there, between us."

"Way to go, Elliot," Mike praised him, and Bobby added his agreement.

"Good luck to both of you. I bet that if any of us can make it work, it's you and Olivia."

"I hope so," Elliot murmured. "We really do care about each other, and it goes beyond the job, you know? You were both right, I need to take this chance."

"Nothing stings like an opportunity wasted," Mike said sagely. Elliot twisted a little in the wheelchair to look up at them both.

"I guess you guys are a perfect example of grabbing opportunities."

"It could have been the opposite," Bobby mused. "When Deakins first told us that we were brothers, we both kind of freaked out. If we'd let it, that knowledge could have driven a wedge between us."

"But you didn't let it do that," Elliot pointed out, and Bobby smiled.

"No, we didn't. We made the choice not to let it affect us negatively, and to take the opportunity that was on offer. Now, you're doing the same."

"See?" Mike said with a cheeky grin. "He can be taught after all."

"Hey!" Elliot said with mock indignation. "I ain't no old dog."

"Chill, pal," Mike said with a chuckle. "It's time to get re-caffeinated."

* * *

"I have to say it again," Elliot said quietly as they sat with their coffees in the Starbucks just down the road from the hospital. It was the very same Starbucks that Bobby and Mike had made their now notorious escape to approximately eight months ago. The amusement from the staff when they brought Elliot in told them that they were well-remembered.

"Say what, Elliot?" Bobby asked, though the tone of his voice suggested that he already knew, or suspected, what Elliot was going to say.

"Thank you," Elliot told them in a voice that was just slightly rough with emotion. "Thank you for letting me come with you... Thank you for not abandoning me, and thank you most of all for being friends, rather than just colleagues."

"You're a decent guy, Elliot," Mike answered. "And what we told you before was true. We're glad you were with us, if for no other reason than it meant you weren't on your own when that bastard came calling."

"But we are your friends," Bobby confirmed. "And we were never going to abandon you to that psychopathic son of a bitch. Not in a million years would we ever have done that."

"Yeah," Elliot mumbled, suddenly sounding suspiciously choked up. "Thanks. I appreciate it. I appreciate everything."

"Just don't forget that you've got friends you can rely on," Bobby told him quietly. Elliot nodded and silence fell briefly between them before Mike spoke gruffly.

"Enough of this soppy show of emotion." He lifted his coffee mug in a faux toast, and Bobby and Elliot followed suit in amusement. "To us, and those who put up with us. May we long continue to annoy the crap out of them."

Elliot laughed and took a swig of his coffee in enthusiastic agreement.

"Cheers."

A similar grin lit up Bobby's face and he, too, drank to that sentiment. Maybe it was becoming a running joke that he and Mike were incapable of doing anything together that didn't lead to trouble, but the truth was that there was no one else he would rather have by is side when he did get into trouble - Alex not withstanding. Now, with adding Elliot to their close-knit group, and Olivia by default, Bobby felt not a sense of intrusion but one of completion. Elliot belonged, and they both welcomed him willingly.

Bobby grinned again in satisfaction as they settled in for another round of coffee and bagels. All in all, life was good.

* * *

_Fin._


End file.
